


A Question of Biological Attraction

by MeaganRain



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Dick Grayson, BAMF Jason Todd, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, M/M, Omega Jason Todd, Omega Verse, Resurrected Jason Todd, Shifter AU, Slow Burn, dick gives him so many hugs, sad Jason, yes there is an actual plot outside of omega!jason angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-03-13 02:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 56,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeaganRain/pseuds/MeaganRain
Summary: Long story short, Jason was not an alluring omega in any way. Jason was also an idiot because he fell for the most perfect alpha to ever grace the face of this damned planet:Dick fucking Grayson.Or, Jason tries to navigate his (non-existent) love life, family issues and personal demons while unravelling a diabolic game that plagued Lower Gotham, one that he had unwittingly joined as a child and must now survive and end.





	1. Prelude

Outsider. Interloper. Other. Jason was familiar with these terms. Afterall, he had felt like he was one or the another at some point in time. The idea of never truly belonging was not a foreign one.

 

It couldn’t be helped. Regardless of the whole, 'it's not what you were born as but what you do that makes you who you are' schtick, the fact the of the matter was, Jason’s biology was what had damned him from the very beginning.

 

It was not unheard of to have animal traits. In fact, nearly everyone had some form of it, from common, minute traits like animal-distinctive tooth structure to the relatively more unusual things like wings. Such occurrences were known as partial shifts and they were prevalent, dominating the general populations of the human race. What was not as prevalent, however, was the ability for a human to undergo full physical transformation into a complete animal, a phenomena known as a complete shift. Only 5% of the population was born with such an ability, and within that 5%, only 10% were predators. Of course, there were also partial shifters that were predators and complete shifters that were prey but that was not the point.

 

The point was, none of these partial shifters didn't pose as big of a threat to preys as full predator shifters. Humans that could thoroughly turn themselves into real animals with all the associated physical attributes — the heightened senses and muscle power — of their animal counterpart but still retaining the intelligence provided by their human mind. Monsters.

 

And Jason was one of them. A full predator shifter, and an apex one at that. 

 

The government claimed that the classification system helped people and allowed them to find the best possible way to integrate new members into society. That was bullshit at best. Partial prey shifters required no special declaration. Hell, full prey shifters only needed to make declarations in forms that required it. But things were different for the predators. Partial predators were made to carry a special pass that by law, required them to show it to any authority that requested for it. Worse yet were full predators that were made to wear metal wristbands. Any caught without their metal bands granted authorities the immediate right to take them into custody with any use of force necessary, outside of lethal means.

 

Other than that, the bands — shackles — didn’t do anything, not anymore, but it did enough because to the rest of society it was a sign screaming in bright neon: volatile, danger, keep away! It labelled him, right from the beginning, as society’s pariah, to be leashed, muzzled and shunned. 

 

Jason had always known he was born an outcast but when he was younger, he didn’t know what that meant. The metal band and the strict instructions to never remove it never meant more than another nonsensical rule made by adults. Grudging abidance so that he could remain unpunished and got food instead of getting sent to his room hungry was all the attention he paid to it. When he got older, being a predator out on the streets was a good thing. People saw the metal band and they thought twice about messing with him. He was stronger, faster and fought better, and that meant food for another day and shelter for another night. He flaunted it like it was a hallmark of his credentials, and it was, on the streets.

 

He didn’t understand the stigma, or more accurately, he didn’t think that people hated him because of his biological makeup. He thought that the nasty looks he got when he walked on the streets were because he was poor. That the people on the streets hightailed when they saw him because of his reputation as a rough fighter. That the parents pull their children closer and muttered nasty things to one another because he was from crime alley, or maybe because he was dirty. Maybe both. It never occurred to him that it was because of what he was.

 

It never occurred to him that the reason his mother couldn’t get a job time and time again was due to the damned silver band around her wrists that mocked the beautiful silver wolf she turned into.

 

(In hindsight, it was good that he had been naive then. It had, if nothing else, postponed his existential crisis and rage until a later age when he was more equipped to deal with it. Which, while not saying much, was something.)

 

Reality hit him when Bruce entered his life and integrated him into the high life of Gotham where discrimination abounded.

 

Bruce had cautioned him against brazenly showing his wrists. He hadn't understood the need for it but he obeyed regardless because he wanted to please his new mentor and father-figure. He tolerated the long sleeved shirts that subtly tapered off at the end, clear attempts at concealing his wrist, and did his best to shake the hands of social elites with his less dominant hand, the hand that didn't have the band. Everything he did was catered towards hiding his nature. And for a while, it worked. He lived in ignorance, unaware of the kind of reaction his very nature garnered. Until he didn’t.

 

It happened at one of the lower profile galas. Jason had been tired from all the schmoozing. Paired with the knowledge of an oncoming deadline for his school assignment, one he had not even started on,  _and_ patrols later that night, he became increasingly careless as the night wore on. To put simply, he had held out his dominant hand in greeting and his sleeve at ridden up due to the angle, exposing the gleaming metal to the chandelier light. The woman the gesture had been directed at had caught the gleam and instantly recoil, stumbling back, the whiskers against her wrinkled cheeks quivering in fear. When she stumbled over her dress, Jason had instinctively reached out to catch her only to have his hand slapped away harshly and quickly, like she did not even want to touch him. 

 

Jason was stunned. Nothing like this had ever happened to Dick or Bruce so he had no point of reference for what was going on. He didn't know how to react, how to resolve the situation because the woman was looking at him like _he_ was the problem and Jason didn't know what to do with that. The worse part was that he had no idea what he did to cause such a violently disgusted and fearful reaction. He hadn’t been posturing or trying to scare her like he did with the people on the streets. And when she stumbled, he had been trying to help.

 

Yet, she reacted like he had been seconds away from lunging for her throat. He didn't understand. 

 

He had watched with a morbid sort of numb fascination mingled with large doses of confusion as Bruce stepped between them, smoothly intercepting the lady from her own hysterics. A few whispered words and a charmingly smile later, the woman gave Bruce a stiff nod. She muttered something back that had Bruce's face go almost stone cold but that lady didn't seem to notice. Instead, she was shooting wary glances at Jason. Jason who was standing there unsure of what he did but ashamed all the same. 

  

They went home immediately after the woman turned to leave.

 

Neither Bruce nor Alfred mentioned it but the next day, Jason found stylish, expensive looking watches on his bed with customised indents that clearly functioned to snugly fit and conceal his metal band. 

 

(He couldn’t help but recall the almost-falling-apart watch his mother always insisted on wearing whenever she went out, even when Jason told her not to. How despondent and wistful she looked as she bitterly muttered, “If only.”)

 

From then on, Jason always wore a watch when he was going out. Bruce, Alfred and Dick had all began wearing watches too. For him, he was sure. And it helped but it wasn’t enough and it wasn't the same. Jason still felt like he didn't belong. More so, when he found out that they were all full prey shifters. 

 

Then, his first heat came and if before he had felt out of place, now he _knew_ he was out of place. Bruce and Dick were both alphas. Alfred was a beta. Jason had hoped, with his aggressive animal counterpart and the orientation of the rest of his family, that he would at least be a beta. But he wasn’t. He was an omega, and suddenly, he was even more of a freak than before.

 

Male omegas were rare — Understatement — more than rare, they were almost unheard of, to the point that when the first one was found, people thought it was a biological defect, nature’s joke on humanity. It was thought to be unnatural — imagine that: males getting pregnant and giving birth. Disgusting, he had been told. For the longest time, male omegas were persecuted as spawns of the devil or descendants of witches. They were beings of evil that hid amongst men, there to sow seeds of discord against the natural order of things. They were interlopers that needed to be sifted out and burned into ash. Over time, things had changed. Equal rights and humanitarian protection meant that male omegas could not be legally persecuted but the didn't mean the disgust had changed. Some still thought that the world needed to be rid of male omegas. Jason supposed if he wanted to be optimistic, that at least he hadn't been born in a time where his orientation would have wounded him in cuffs, waiting to hang at the gallows because he supposed disgusted looks were steps above death. Maybe.

 

The worse part was, nature didn’t even deign to make Jason a _good_ omega. Omegas allured alphas with they're shorter, smaller and general meek and subservient — obedient — nature. Jason stood out in a painful way someone who as incomplete and lacking stood out.

 

He was neither meek nor small. From the way he was growing, he’d outgrow Dick soon so he was anything but short.

 

His wolf made him aggressive, alphas be damned.

 

His disobedience got him killed the first time around.

 

Jason was a freak of nature, a contradiction and conundrum in every biological way possible.

 

Long story short, Jason was not an alluring omega in any way. Jason was also an idiot because he fell for the most perfect alpha to ever grace the face of this damned planet:

 

Dick fucking Grayson.


	2. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason returns to Gotham and the plot kicks in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is me introducing threads to be woven at later chapters, so if you're wondering why shit's not going down, here's the reason. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

 

In the early hours of the morning, when the sky remained inky black and the stars were not visible under the heavy smog that had draped itself over the Gotham skyline, a woman with long dark hair and a sinuous red dress walked down the empty streets of Lower Gotham. Her pace was steady and the consistent sound of her black stilettos hitting the cement ground echoed around her, projecting her location to the darkness that she knew crept around her. She felt eyes follow her from the depths of the shadows though she could not see them. She kept her own blue eyes trained forward and kept her pace. Her pale tail swished around her legs.

 

She knew this part of town. She was familiar with the unseen entities that lurked freely when light was absent and she knew the games they played. Everyone in this area played the same game and every night, a new game began and everyone joined in. She had nothing to fear.

 

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

 

As she reached the family mart, she inclined her head towards the owner, a burly man with small eyes and orange-tinted skin. Whatever left of his blonde hair greasy and unkempt. She turned and crossed the road, walking perpendicular to the mart, feeling the eyes of the man follow her. The owner watched as she disappeared down the alley across from his mart and shooking his head.

 

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

 

The sound echoed loudly as she snapped her feet one after another, bringing her deeper into the familiar alley. Her bracelets jingled as she moved to get her keys. At the back end, right at the juncture, she stopped.

 

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

 

Somehow, the sound continued to echo around her.

 

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

 

But the woman had stopped walking.

 

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

 

That night, for the first and the last time, she lost.

 

* * *

 

Jason slunk through the rooftops of Gotham for the first time since his raging warpath against the Bats. The smog of Lower Gotham, crime alley, envelope him in a comforting embrace as he slipped through the night, accepting him into its dark folds, hiding him, protecting him as one of her own. All at once, he felt at home and he relished it. But as quickly as the feeling came, it was shattered by smothered coughing and wheezing that indicated troubled breathing. 

 

“Little one,” Artemis rasped from behind him, her sentence followed by another smothered cough. Beside him, Bizarro sniffled.

 

Jason sighed. It seemed for once, he was the only one that was welcome. And of all things, it was into the dense pollution of, as the media liked to call it, the dark side of Gotham, where the impoverished, the uneducated and the unsophisticated go to fester and breed amongst themselves, away from the rest of civilisation. Where the rejects go. Where the rest of Gotham could turn their backs and pretend they don’t exist. Even the Bats don’t patrol the entire area. They focused only on crime alley and that was because the shit that goes down in crime alley usually blew big enough to affect other parts.

 

It was Jason’s home.

 

It wasn't hard to see how his teammates were struggling to breathe through Gotham's smog. They could, of course, given enough time, get accustomed to it. They _were_ aliens. Yet, that didn’t change the fact that they were struggling now. It concerned Jason, in spite of himself. 

 

“Come on, just a little more. My safehouse's close.” He beckoned them and hopped to the next building. He could feel the tug on his shirt as Bizarro followed by default, having latched onto the ends of Jason’s jacket when they had entered the city’s perimeters and he had gotten spooked by the haze. That left Artemis behind them.

 

Because he was an asshole, Jason couldn't resist throwing a taunt over his shoulder. "Too much for you, Amazonian?”

 

He grinned when, predictably, there was a growl of frustration followed by the distinct but now familiar, stomp of Amazonian boots as they trekked across the building with a lilt of resolution. There was also more smouldered coughing and low, dark muttering that Jason didn’t try too hard understand. When she caught up, Jason leapt from the side of the building and dropped down onto his fire escape. After keying into the hidden panel, an audible click told him he was in.

 

Jason couldn’t help but grin. He was home.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't long before Jason once again slipped out, alone this time.

 

The reasons he had for venturing back were simple and business always ran swifter when he operated alone. 

 

The first reason for his return was a small case. A long-time friend had called him asking for a missing friend to be found. Not wholly uncommon occurrence since he was familiar with the workings of Lower Gothams and people going incognito to do or hide from some shady business was an everyday thing. Jason wasn't alarmed yet and knew that the case wasn't urgent, giving him time to settle the other reason he came back.

 

Jason’s next heat was coming in a week and he was out of suppressants. He had to return to Gotham because nowhere else could he get illegal heat suppressants 'legally'.

 

He dropped down into an alley, in front of a brick wall he was well acquainted with. Lower Gotham was crawling with alleyway secrets and Jason was familiar with all of them. Moving quickly, he rapped his knuckles in a well-practised pattern on the third left brick. As expected, it made a hollow sound that notified whoever was guarding the other side that someone wanted to enter.

 

Jason gave himself a quick once-over to check that his domino was in place under his sunglasses and that he had his bulletproof vest under the inconspicuous white shirt he wore. He had checked that he had full holsters when he left the apartment. 

 

In front of him, the wall shifted and swung inwards revealing it for what it really was, a door leading down a flight of stairs into the Devil’s Well and the underground system. A muscular, raven-haired alpha stood at the door giving Jason a once over. Jason let him. He had his scent suppressing sticker behind his ears so for all intents and purposes, he was an alpha to anyone sniffing. Not that being an omega would prevent him from entering the tunnel systems. It simply helped to be alpha because he was male and male omegas were... not widely accepted. Pretending to be an alpha meant less trouble. As expected, the guard stepped aside, allowing Jason to move past him with nothing but a nod of acknowledgement.

 

Jason descended the stairway that led down into the hazy pub below. Navigating easily through the throngs of moving bodies, Jason made a beeline for the bar counter. It was hard to see clearly in the low light but the wolf eyes he had shifted into the moment he entered the smokey den allowed him to see clearly and find the tall, lean red-headed alpha that worked behind the counter. He moved to sit in front of the familiar mope of red curls.

 

“Haven’t seen you in a while. Good to see you alive.” Lylia, shot Jason a sharp, foxy grin, her words lilting to a rough accent that spoke of Lower Gotham descent. She began mixing his drink.

 

Jason grunted. “Been busy.”

 

“Haven’t we all, sweetheart.” She laughed, placing his drink in front of him.

 

Jason took a swing without hesitation. There weren’t many people Jason trusted and even fewer of them inhabited the underground world of Lower Gotham but Lylia was not only one of them, she was also the best of them. After some deliberation, he quirked his brow at her. “Lemongrass?”

 

“Looks like you passed the test again, _Lobo_. On the first try too, you’re getting good.” Lylia praised, lips tilted fondly. She leaned forward until her lips brushed his ear. “Give me a few minutes to get off work. I got the stuff you asked for and some other bits of information.”

 

She then pulled back with a smirk and after a quick wipe down and a gesture to her colleague to take her place, she moved away from the bar into the back room.

 

Jason smirked into his drink. He moved to the back of the bar where there was an inconspicuous door. Moments later, Lylia sidled up beside him. Quickly and silently, they slipped through the door that brought them further into the systems and made their way through the dimly lit tunnels. As they did so, Jason couldn't help but savour the familiarity and easiness of her company. 

 

The tunnel system spanned throughout all of Lower Gotham and was its most protected secret. Anyone not native and not within the underground folds would know nothing about it. Jason knew that not even the Bats knew. It was a system of protection for both the more normal citizens and the criminals in town because it kept foreign drug lords and gangs out while giving the locals an upper hand. Ironically, it kept itself covert by trusting that those that knew, meaning those grew up on the streets of Gotham, — some of the most notoriously _untrustworthy_ people there was — would keep it to themselves. And shockingly, they did. For generations and generations, only the rugrats and low-life that grew up living and breathing on the dirt of Gotham knew about it and they kept it like that because everyone knew everyone and even if there was animosity, they had more in common with each other than some outsiders. So they protected each other by keeping this secret. That’s as far as the loyalty goes but it was enough.

 

The pair stopped a staircase that looked like any other and began climbing it, both knowing better than to speak about anything important or personal. They passed by another guard and moved into the back alley. Once out, they twisted through two other alleyways before climbing up the fire escapes to the third floor and slipping into the Lylia’s apartment. The apartment was small but tastefully decorated and it was on a relatively safer side of Lower Gotham, Jason had made sure of that when he had gotten it for her. 

 

As soon as they got in, Jason shucked off his vest and flopped onto the couch, which honestly looked older than him and placed an arm over his eyes with a loud sigh of content.

 

Lylia snorted. “You haven’t changed in the 15 years I’ve known you. Still a bum, I see.” She poked her toes at his midsection where she knew he was ticklish.

 

“Lay off, woman.” Jason grumbled, lifting his arm to swat noncommitedly at the offending foot, refusing to open his eyes,

 

The red-haired Alpha huffed down at him in exasperation. “Fine. I’m going to shower, you can stay here and sleep or do whatever. We'll talk later.”

 

Jason grunted in reply.

 

As soon as he heard the water go on in the other room, Jason cracked his eyes open and stood from the couch, quietly slipping out onto the fire escape. His phone had been buzzing non-stop since entering the tunnels but he hadn't wanted to pick up while Lylia was around. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he did, but sometimes ignorance meant safety.

 

Taking out one of the few phones he had that was not a burner, he glanced at the caller ID. It was unknown. That didn't mean much so with a shrug he picked it up. It was his drug lord phone, at worst it was some thug calling to threaten him.

 

“Hello?”

 

“You’re back.” At the sound of the clipped, professional voice on the other end.

 

Jason grimaced down at the phone. This was worse than some thug calling him. He had been hoping to hold her off for a while longer. “Hey, Oracle.”

 

There was no reply, just icy silence.  Jason cleared throat, shifting slightly from one foot to the other. He wasn't nervous dammit. “Um, so. How did you get the number?”

 

Still no reply.

 

“Babs?”

 

For a while, there was no sound at all and Jason was almost tempted to just hang up and possibly go gather up his teammates and hightail them out of Gotham that instant because of course the Bats fucking knows, what was he thinking— then the sound of a soft, controlled breath released through the phone. “Names.” Barbara said, soundly drawn and tired, “And before you ask, no, no one else knows you’re back. But me, of course.

 

"Of course." Jason echoed and allowed himself to slump over on the railing of the escape, a sigh of relief just barely escaping his lips. The family didn’t know he was in Gotham. Good, that was good.

 

“I was going to go see you later but now’s a good a time as any to ask. ‘Think you could do me a favour and keep things that way?”

 

“Hood.” Jason didn’t need to see to know that Barbara had pursed her lips and looked totally disapproving. He could hear it.

 

“Please.”

 

Barbara sighed again. “Hood, you disappeared for months after the whole incident with J— _him_. We were worried about you.”

 

Jason tightened his grip on the phone at the mention of the clown. “Maybe you were but don’t try to sell me crap about the others— ”

 

“Dick was worried.” Barbara cut in and just like that like, Jason’s mouth snapped shut and like an idiot, he suddenly found that he couldn't speak. It didn't matter though because Barbara kept going. “You might not want to believe that the others were worried about you, and they were, but you should at least know that Dick would be worried about you. Not a word from you, Jason, for months! I couldn’t track you and— ”

 

“Not now.” Jason interrupted. He had just noticed that the water from Lylia’s room had stopped.

 

Over the phone, he heard Barbara sucking in a breath, clearly readying herself to give him a piece of her mind, probably something along the lines of telling him exactly where he could shove his ‘not now’, so he quickly added, “Look, I'll head to the tower later, you can yell and throw stuff at me in person then. I might even let some of them hit.”

 

There was a short contemplative silence as Barbara considered his offer before she let out a huff of amusement. “Fine. You better.”

 

“Maybe. In the meantime—”

 

“Don’t let the Bats know. Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. You know, for a 20 something, you nag like an old man.” And before Jason could retort, Barbara hung up, leaving him to grumble at the phone. He would sell his left kidney if she hadn’t been rolling her eyes as she said that.

 

He climbed back into the apartment and settled down on the couch just in time to see Lylia come out of her room wrapped in a white fluffy towel, water dripping from her hair. Jason raised an eyebrow.

 

“I'm going to sleep after you leave.” Lylia shrugged as she moved to the kitchen. She came back out with a hand-sized box.

 

“Here,” She tossed it to him, “It’s the same as the last ones, one pill every day. It should last you 4 months exactly.”

 

“Thanks.” Jason slipped the suppressants into his utility belt as Lylia dropped down heavily beside him and promptly flopped over his lap.

 

“Comb my hair.” She demanded, waving the comb in Jason's face.

 

With a put-upon sigh, Jason took the comb and did as he was told. His efforts earned him a beamed as she settled back down on his lap and reached for the remote to scour the channels for something good.

 

“You’re lucky I love you.” He grumbled.

 

“ _You're_ lucky you're cute.” She shot back.

 

He shrugged. “Can't argue.”

 

She scoffed.

 

In the end, Lylia settled for some channel showing the Wizard of Oz while Jason focused on trying to untangle the knots in her hair. For a while, the living was filled with only the sounds of the television, the ticking of the clock and their breathing and heartbeats. It was _comforting_ , how familiar they were with one another, and how warm and homely it was to be with her. Jason had missed her. But it was almost daybreak and Jason had to go to the Clocktower. He couldn't stay too much longer, no matter how much he wanted to.

 

Letting out a small breath, Jason reluctantly broke the peace. “Carolyn called me a few days ago.”

 

Lylia didn't move or reply and if Jason had to make a guess, he would say that her eyes were closed. 

 

“Someone went missing.” He continued.

 

She simply hummed from his lap, hair still wet and soaking into his shirt. Jason huffed. He knew Lylia and Carolyn had a rough history and were not on speaking terms, he just didn’t know why. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he  _wanted_ to know why.

 

"Lylia?" He waved his hand over her face to make sure she was paying attention. Swatting at his hand, Lylia grumbled and blinked a few times before flipping over to look at him, eyes slightly bloodshot. She was tired, not surprising, considering what time it was and how long she had probably been working before he had arrived. It was another reason for Jason to make haste.

 

“One of the prostitutes, right?" She said, yawning. "I heard down at the Well. People were beginning to buzz about it because no one’s seen him in 2 weeks.”

 

Jason frowned. That was very specific information and it meant that the news had spread. That wasn’t good. The more people who knew, the harder it is for him to work discreetly. In these parts, people were more unwilling to give information when they know there might be an investigation going on, fearful that whatever they gave away might implicate them in some way, or worse, expose other secrets.

 

“Anything else interesting?” Jason asked.

 

“If you mean any solid confirmation on what happened to him, no. It's just the usual, speculations and theories and the occasional sob-story.” She shrugged. “The interesting thing is though, people have been saying how he’s not the only one missing”

 

Jason cocked his head to the side. “Oh?”

 

“Mmhm,” Lylia adjusted her towel, turning to face the television again. Her eyes were beginning to droop and her words were beginning to slur. “Since last month, omegas have been going missing. 3, so far.” Jason watched in amusement as she stretched out in a yawn before snuggling further into his lap.

 

“You should go to bed.”

 

“No, it’s fine.” She yawned again and mumbled. “I don’t know when you’ll be back again. Haven’t seen you for months. ‘Was worried.”

 

Jason bit his lips, feeling guilty. The last time he had seen Lylia, he was a still under the influence of the pit, half-mad with rage. She had tried to talk him out of his fool’s quest and he had, irrationally, came to the conclusion that she was on the Bat’s side and had stormed off after calling her some choice words. It was a genuine shock when he had received a call from her the night of ‘The Incident’ telling him that she had seen what happened on the news. She asked if he was alright. He didn’t look for her — by then, he was almost out of Gotham — but he ended up telling her everything. He had raged and cried and screamed, and she had listened. And when everything was over and he had calmed down, she had offered to go on the soul-searching journey with him. ‘To make sure you don’t rot with loneliness’ she said, laughing like he hadn’t just confessed to killing people and hadn’t sworn at her up and down in a fit of insanity and anger just days ago.

 

In the end, he had said no, that he needed to do himself and she understood. That was the last time he had contacted her, until a day ago, when he told her he was returning to Gotham with his new team. He hadn’t even told her much, just that he was coming back and urgently needed suppressants. 

 

Reaching out, he took her hand and squeezed it. “You can go to sleep, I’ll come back soon, I promise. I just need to settle some stuff. Thanks for the information and the pills.”

 

“You said ‘soon’ last time too, ya know.” She grumbled but she squeezed back, accepting his thanks.

 

“Give me 3 days, I’ll finish the case and come visit, for real this time. Trust me.”

 

She blinked up at him, a lazy smile stretched across. “You know I do.”

  

* * *

 

Jason flipped into the Clocktower just after 6 am.

 

The room was dark, lit only by the screens of the various computers and systems cramped within the room. Barbara was sitting in front of the largest screen, at the far corner of the room, hands flying across the keyboards, notes and case files scattered around her. When she heard him open the door, she didn’t look away from the computer, she simply grabbed the nearest mug and deftly chucked it in his direction with abandon. Jason barely snagged it out of the air before it hit him square in the face. The girl had a deadly aim and that hadn’t changed.

 

“You said you’d let it hit.”

 

“I said maybe.”

 

Barbara stopped typing and turned to face him, her face creased in a scowl as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You should. You owe me.”

 

“I do.” He admitted. He carefully trudged his way across the room and placed the cup on her desk, eyes never straying from her gaze as he moved to stand in front of her.

 

Barbara raised a red eyebrow at him, fingers tapping. “Well?”

 

Jason refused to shrink under her gaze. Barbara always made him feel like he was 12, clad in yellow, red and green again but he was 20 now. He would not cower, dammit. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Are you?”  _for leaving?_ She lifted her chin slightly, daring him to bullshit her. He didn’t.

 

“No.” He said because it was the truth.

 

They held each other’s gaze for a breath moment, Jason's remorselessly resolute and Barbara's searching, before Barbara sighed and closed her eyes, sinking back into her wheelchair. “I figured as much.” She said. She glanced up when Jason gave no reaction and snorted at him. "What are you standing there for? C’mere,” Barbara yanked his upper body down as she wrapped her arms around him.

 

Jason felt himself sink into her hug. “Sorry, I made you worried.” He mumbled against her shoulder.

 

“You better be.” She retorted, tone mildly threatening but mostly warm.

 

They stayed like that for a while, until Barbara suddenly pulled back and held him at arm's length, sniffing at him. “You were with an alpha.” She said, eying him critically.

 

Jason craned his neck back, arms still hanging in a loose hug around her as he frowned at her, bemused at the random observation. “Yes?”

 

“You were touching, closely.” She stated, eyes narrowing further as she craned her head back and gave him a once-over as though to assess his state of dressing.

 

Jason’s eyebrows began creeping towards his hairline as he stared at Barbara. Slowly, he replied, “Yes?”

 

“Jason!” 

 

“What?” Jason completely pulled out of her arms and stood up straight so that he could fully stare at her to hopefully convey his incomprehension.

 

“What about Dick?” Barbara said.

 

“ _What_ about Dick?” At this point, Jason’s eyebrows were disappearing up his hairline from the feel of it.

 

“You like him.” She said— no, _stated_.

 

Jason winced, feeling his heart accelerate at the mere thought of the alpha. Then, like the idiot that Dick Grayson was so prone to reduce him into, he did the least convincing and dumbest thing he could have done in his situation— he denied everything like his life depended on it.

 

"I don’t know what you're talking about.” He crossed his arm tighter over his chest. 

 

Over her glasses, Barbara shot him a scathingly sceptical look. “Yes, you do.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes, Jason, you do.”  

 

“I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about. Not a goddamn clue.” At this point, Barbara had her chin raised to level him the most imperiously unimpressed look she can manage while Jason still had his arms firmly crossed and in an absolutely radical statement move, turned his nose upwards and refused to look at her. 

 

Barbara rolled her eyes. “Denial is in Egypt Jason, not in your love life. _Yes, y_ _ou do_.”

 

Jason looked back down and shot her an ugly look at that. “Yes, denial is in Egypt so I can’t be in it. _No, I don’t._ ”

 

They stared each other down. This time, unfortunately, Jason was the first to look away. Barbara looked too all-knowing and smug to fool. Jason pursed his lips and grudgingly stared down at the ground. He definitely did not shuffle his feet like a two-year-old.

 

“How did you know?" He grumbled.

 

Barbara raised an amused brow as she peered down at her nails, lips curled in a satisfied smirk. “Dick’s one of my best friends, he tells me things.”

 

Jason whipped his head to stare at her, eyes wide with horror. “He _knows_?”

 

“No, of course not you idiot," She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "he doesn’t know because he’s an idiot too. And no, I didn’t mention anything to him.” 

 

Jason did not sigh in relief. "So… what did he tell you?”

 

“Oh, you know," Barbara shrugged idly, "Just something really interesting about what happened after you came back.”

 

“Which was _nothing_ ,” Jason said hastily.

 

“Right." Babs hummed like she was appeasing a child, eyes crinkled in amusement.

 

After a beat of silence, Jason groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe he told you.”

 

She beamed cheerfully back at him. “Yes, well, he did.”

 

Jason glared at her through his fingers. God, he could feel his ears turning red. Barbara just shrugged in response, smirk widening smugly. “If it makes you feel better, he didn’t go into the details.”

 

Jason groaned again, this time in horror. His ears were definitely red. Jason allowed himself a few moments to wallow in horror and self-pity — during which, Barbara had productively switched off all her computers and was working on tidying her case files and notes — before determinedly clearing his throat and trying for a casual lean again the table behind him. If Bab's sniggered were anything to go by, he wasn't very successful. Jason didn't know why he kept digging when he knew it was his own grave but he kept trying anyway.

 

As blase as he could, he changed the subject, “Speaking of Dick, about the Bats..."

 

Barbara snorted. “That was a horrible transition.”

 

Jason glared at her.

  

Barbara giggled before giving in and turning her attention to another conversation topic, “So, how long are you planning to stay?”

 

Relieved, Jason latched at the chance. Unthinkingly, he said, “Not long, only until I finish this case.”

 

He only realised his mistake when Barbara, with a curious edge, echoed, “The case?”

 

Jason winced. She wasn't supposed to know that. He weighed his options quickly. Now that she knew that there _was_ a case, she would probably dig. Knowing her, she'd find out what the case was along with a million other things Jason didn't want her to find. Knowing that, he could either negotiate and get some perk out of telling her or hold her off for a likely insignificant time. The choice was obvious. 

 

"I'll tell you, you keep me and the case from the bats.” 

 

Barbara rolled her eyes at his words, "Yeah, yeah, like I would have told them anything. Now, tell me."

 

Jason considered her words. Barbara was similar to Lylia in more than their hair colour. He nodded at her. “I’m working on a case for a friend. Her friend went missing a while ago and she wants me to find him. I thought it was an isolated case but I found out recently that there had been up to three similar cases of that nature.”

 

Barbara frowned. “That’s weird. Something like this, we would have heard about it. I definitely didn’t know and Bruce and my dad never mentioned anything like that to me either. They would have by the second person, at least.”

 

“Of course they didn’t know," Jason muttered bitterly, "the ones missing are all from Lower Gotham.”

 

Barbara lifted an eyebrow. “What are you trying to say?”

 

Jason couldn't help himself, he sneered. Years of watching most of Gotham ignore the Lower district, he couldn't hide his scorn at her ignorant wonderment. “I’m saying, none of the Bats have time to cover that area, and the police prefer to pretend, for their health and mental sanity, that Lower Gotham doesn’t exist. I’m saying” He leaned downed, bringing his face closer to the red-headed Oracle and met her eyes squarely, “that unless someone died in a tragic and gruesome way not typical of gang violence, no one there will go within ten feet of the police or the Bats.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was rising, but its light did little to penetrate the darkness innate within Lower Gotham. In the back end of an alley, under the gauzy cover of cigarette smoke and alcohol, late night party goers stumbled against one another as they exited the club, laughing and slurring.

 

They stopped short when they saw the yellow tape that covered the vicinity. More police cars than ever seen by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood surrounded the area.

 

Crowds were beginning to gather, and amongst them were whispers that travelled further than the eyes could see.

 

_Murder… Dead… Found…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lobo — Spanish for wolf. 
> 
> I honestly don't know how accurate that is because I don't speak a lick of Spanish and I got it off some websites on google. Some sites say it has some sentimental connotations? I don't know, I was just trying to fulfil my Latina-background-growing-up-Jason headcanon, have mercy.
> 
> But, anyone who knows, please educate me. 
> 
> Also, yes, something JayDick went down off-screen, it'll be expanded on it the later chapters but for now, muahahaha. 
> 
> Feedback welcomed!!


	3. Number One: Red Riding Hood

Barbara contemplated just ignoring the sound of her door bursting open — Maybe she could pretend to be asleep in hopes the whoever it was would take a hint and go away? Sadly, she remembered who had access to her tower and knew that none of them saw it beneath themselves to wake her up, violently if need be, even though she spends most of her nights slaving for them. Ungrateful, all of them. It was a wonder she had not send them on a wild goose chase just because she could. Yet. 

 

She groaned inwardly, her stripped tail twitching in irritation as she rolled over and stared forlornly at her ceiling. Dammit, Jason. Between running searches for his case and equipping him with sensors to detect the rest of his family when they enter his proximity and a secure comm to communicate with her, it had taken up most of her morning.

 

In between, they had talked, caught up with each other’s businesses and just hung out like they used to when he was Robin, alive and unscared. She missed it dearly so the fact that she got to experience it again — that she had seen that the Jason she knew and loved wasn’t completely gone, just lost — had soothed her ire when she realised that she would only get 2 hours of sleep before she needed to meet her father for brunch. But only barely.

 

Now though, she knew her alarm hadn’t gone off which meant that she didn’t even get the 2 hours of sleep she had been banking on to get her through the next 18 hours. Whoever was at the door better run, and run _fast._

 

Heaving herself up to a sit, Barbara squinted at the figure standing at her door, lips curled in an almost snarl as she fumbled for her glasses. Sometimes, she wished she was born with the eyes of a tiger rather than just a useless tail. “Dick.”

 

If the first robin picked up the lethal note in the way she uttered his name, he didn’t let on. Unperturbed, he strode deeper into her room to stand by her bed.

 

Her scowl darkened. “Wha—”

 

“Did you see the news?” The younger boy asked abruptly, looking down at her.

 

Barbara, with her glasses on, eyed him frowning. Dick was buzzing with manic energy, feet tapping, impatient as he waited for her to respond. Granted, Dick Grayson was a being of immeasurable energy on any given day. But this was different. His blue eyes bright and almost wild with fervour and instead of bouncing on the balls of his feet, Dick was _vibrating._  His hands were shaking. It was concerning and Barbara feared what got Dick in such an unstable state.

 

Not wanting to give away her nervousness, she gave a measured shrugged. “No, I went offline after you guys ended your patrols.” Wordlessly, Dick grabbed the remote on the bedside table rapidly switching channels until he got to the news.

 

“Look.”

 

The screen showed a dingy alley filled with flashy yellow tape and blue-uniformed policemen. A typical crime scene, one Barbara had seen too many times to be phased by. She looked over at Dick and raised an eyebrow, knowing that he couldn’t possibly have barrelled into her room in the middle of the day to show her a murder report. Homicides were a dime a dozen in Gotham, and while Barbara would never consider the loss of any life trivial, she didn’t see the need for Dick to come all the way to the Clocktower to show her something like this.  

 

Dick jerked his chin towards the television and nudged her insistently, not saying a word and not taking his own eyes off the screen as they tracked the moving images.

 

Resigned, Barbara returned her eyes to the screen. The news anchors were reporting the details of the murder, looking and sounding completely unfazed, — not surprising, considering Gotham reported their murders like other places reported weather — but what caught Barbara’s attention were the bold letters rolling lazily across the bottom of the screen: _The Red Hood sighted around the quarantined area._

 

Barbara felt her heart take a plunge as she stared at the words. 

 

She knew it wasn’t Jason. The body had been found at 8 am and was estimated to have been deceased for only 4 hours. Jason had been with her all morning and even if he knew how to temporarily stunt the decomposition process and could have planted the body, all of her intel confirmed that he had only entered Gotham past midnight and had gone straight from his safehouse to the alleys of Gotham to meet the unknown alpha before going to her house. Sure, he spent unusually long in the alley and it was in a blind spot, but he came out from Lower Gotham’s maze of alleys on nearly the other side of town wearing the exact same clothing, ones that were distinctly lacking in blood splatters.

  

She couldn’t tell Dick any of that. It would mean revealing too much of what she had promised to keep hidden. She meant it when she said that for as long as Jason wished and for as far as her abilities would allow her, Barbara would make sure Jason saw neither a hide nor a tail of his estranged family. She would hide him because he was her family and Barbara protected her own. She would have done the same for all the other Bats — and had, on many occasions — so she would damn well do the same for Jason too.

 

And that meant she couldn’t defend Jason now. It grated on her, knowing what the other Bats have already deduced (assumed) of the situation — that Jason was back for trouble and that he, however inexplicably, had something to do with the murder. It frustrated as much as it hurt to not be able to do anything about it. To be unable to protect him _because_  she was protecting him. What a mess.

 

“He’s back,” Dick said, tone neutral despite the fact that his hands were shaking harder. She watched him clench them.

 

Barbara roved her eyes over Dick's face, trying to decipher what he was thinking and look for any tick or twitch that would reveal where he stood in all of this, whether or not he thought Jason had something to do with the case, but his eyes were far off, staring at the photo of a blurred figure with a telling flash of red, that was at the bottom screen, just above the scrolling words. For all his eccentricities, Dick was scarily good at controlling his expressions.

 

“So he is.” She said slowly.

 

Dick watched the screen for a few moments longer before turning to her with a blaze in his eyes. “It wasn’t him.” The way Dick said it left no room for argument, the absolute certainty of a true believer. The look in his eyes was hard and unyielding and Barbara’s shoulders slumped infinitesimally as she felt something in her uncoil.

 

“I didn’t think so.” She said truthfully and saw Dick relax at her admission. 

 

“So,” She said, “I take it the others already know about this? We both know you barely watch T.V. Someone must have told you.”

 

Dick nodded, sprawling onto her bed. "Tim told me. The other’s all know too.”

 

Barbara nodded slowly, waiting for Dick to continue. He didn’t. Instead, he was idling playing with her duvet, avoiding eye contact. Inwardly, Barbara grimaced. If Dick didn’t want to talk about it, it couldn’t be good. “How are they taking it?”

 

There was a beat of silence as Dick stared resolutely at the duvet before he finally looked up and shot her a strained smile, his hands clenching around the duvet. “About as well as you think.” The smile dropped and his expression turned dour. “Bruce wants us to find and apprehend him immediately. He said he was a danger.”

 

Barbara wasn’t surprised. “And you?” She asked.

 

Dick closed his eyes, breathing slowly out of his nose. He dropped his head against her bed and looked like he wanted to sink into it and disappear. “I think Bruce is right,” He said, sounding like he thought the exact opposite; like he wanted to cut his own tongue. He also sounded like he repeated the sentiment one too many times.

 

Barbara gave him her best don’t-shit-me look, and Dick sighed. “We should at least find him.” He said in lieu of answering.

 

Barbara pursed her lips and kept silent, staring unwaveringly at her best friend, trying to convey her disapproval. After a while, Dick heaved an aggravated sigh, tugging at her duvet with more force like he didn't know what to do with all his pent-up frustrations.

 

“I want to see him.” He admitted.

  

As Barbara watched her longtime best friend mop with such despondent, she felt the guilt of her knowledge gnawing at her. She knew that she could instantly make Dick feel better if she told me where Jason was — down in a brick-red apartment building just shy of crime alley — but she couldn't. Instead, Barbara flipped off her duvet and crawled forward until she was cuddled beside him, her fingers combing through his. She hummed softly and turned her attention to the television, offering him silent companionship. She knew him enough to know that that’s what he needed in times like these.

 

The news anchors had already moved on but Barbara’s mind lingered. The omega was murdered recently, so it likely had nothing to do with Jason’s case but it never hurt to be thorough. Besides, if Jason was on site, he might be working on it and if he wasn’t, the Bats will be now that they know he’s involved. Either way, she would need to start gathering information. With that in mind, she grabbed her phone to begin checking up on what the police have but before she could do that, her screen flashed to show 17 missed calls from Bruce and her father.

 

Barbara swore internally. Great, just what she needed.

 

She decided she would call her father back first. The lesser of two evils. The call was quick, he was busy with the case after all. He wanted to know if she had time to run some scans for him. The police had found a note in the victim's hand, completely uncrumpled and free of blood. It was evidently planted after the murder. He wanted her to run fingerprint and DNA scans. Barbara readily agreed. If the killer left a note, it might help her build a case to prove that it wasn’t Jason.

 

After a quick reminder of their brunch plans, she hung up. She nudged Dick. 

 

“Bruce has been calling. I’m going to call him back.” She told him when he looked at her. 

 

Dick gave a half-hearted shrug in response. Barbara sighed and dialled. They both knew how the conversation would go down and there was no way around it.

 

“Did you know?” Bruce said the moment he picked up.

 

Giving herself half a breathe to gather herself, Barbara straightened her back and like a light switch, she became the Oracle. “No. I was offline until Dick woke me up. Fifteen minutes ago.”

 

There was a moment of silence as Bruce weighed the truth of her words. “Find him.” He said eventually. 

 

Barbara barely kept herself from sighing out loud again. Honestly, the man’s social abilities would have left a weaker man crying. “Bruce, I couldn’t find him last time, what makes you think I’ll find him this time?” She saidm trying to keept the exasperation from her tone. 

 

“Try” Was all he had to say to that before he hung up. 

 

Nice. This time she did sigh. Forget making glaciers friendly, Bruce could freeze hell over on a good day. And today, was definitely not a good day.

 

“What did he say?”

 

“He wants me to find him.” She slipped her hands under her glasses and rubbed them tiredly. Seriously, with barely 2 hours of sleep, she wasn’t ready for this.

 

“Can you?” He glanced at her and Barbara tried not to think about how much hope he conveyed in that single glance. She knew the answer to his question: she could, already have. The real question is: will she tell them?

 

She shrugged noncommittally, dropping her hands in her lap, her eyes raw from the rubbing. “It might be easier for me to track him in Gotham. Either way, Bruce wants to me try so it’s not like I have a choice.”

 

Dick looked thoughtfully at her. “If you find him could you let me be the first to know?”

 

Barbara pursed her lips. She couldn't promise that, not when she didn't even plan on telling anyone where Jason was to begin with.

 

“Will I even find him? She said dryly. It wasn’t a promise and Dick noticed.

 

“If you do,” He insisted and Barbara nearly huffed at him. She didn't like picking between her brothers but they somehow always put her in difficult spots like these. 

 

“ _If_ I find him.” She stated flatly, this time a reluctant promise.

 

Satisfied, Dick nodded and rolled off her bed, springing to his feet with a stretch. He ran a hand over his face, frowning unhappily. “I need to go. Bruce wants all hands on deck to find him.”

 

Silently, Barbara waved him off, not paying attention to him ducking out her window. She was already planning how she could interfere to keep them from finding or accidentally running into Jason.

 

First, she had to warn the man.

 

It wouldn’t be breaking her promise to Dick if she had no need or intention to  _find_ Jason, right?

 

* * *

 

Jason’s feet hit the ground running, his dark hair in his eyes, sweaty and sticky but it didn’t matter. He could manoeuvre these streets in his sleep, he didn’t need to see to know where to go. Behind him, footsteps pounded hard against the floor but Jason’s were silent. He bolted down the alley and turned left knowing Caleb would be there with the manhole open for them to make the escape. They had planned it out the second. The manhole covers were too heavy to lift once it was shut so one of them needed to be on standby, holding it up. Since Jason could run faster, Caleb was in-charge of holding up the cover.  

 

Sure enough, Caleb was there, in all his freckled, dirty-blonde hair glory, his body half down the rabbit-hole, one hand propping him on the ground while the other held up the manhole cover.

 

Jason’s pursuers were catching up, their footsteps echoing louder, but this was his food ration for the day and Jason wasn’t about to lose it. He tightened his grip on the bag he held and pushed himself to run faster.

 

The shadow of his pursuer elongated in Jason’s peripheral, telling him that they had made the turn and were very,  _very_ close. If he was caught, Jason knew he was in for a world of pain, but he wouldn't be caught, he was certain. Caleb and he had done this a million times, and they weren’t about to fail at a million and one.

 

Gritting his teeth, Jason flattened out into a full sprint towards Caleb.

 

As he closed in, they moved in perfect unison. Like a coordinated dance, Caleb let go of both the manhole cover and his grip of the ground, dropping himself down as Jason threw himself the rest of the distance and side-tackled his way under the cover just before it slammed shut above him. Jason landed with a splash, panting. It wasn’t over. They could hear the approaching footsteps and knew that soon, the cover would be torn off to let the pursuers in.

 

They took off down the maze of sewage tunnels until they reached a nook. One after another they crawled in and waited stock-still, breaths held. They could hear the angry and disgusted mutterings in a distance but as the minutes passed, it became increasingly clear that the voices were drifting further away from them rather than closer. The pursuers weren’t locals and because of that, they weren’t familiar with the underground sewage system of Lower Gotham or the secret doors that could get them to the tunnel system. They weren't stupid enough to steal from locals; they weren't suicidal after all. 

 

Jason grin at Caleb, pumped on adrenaline and beaming with triumph. They did it.

 

They crawled out of the nook and began walking the other way from where they came, their bag of spoils clinking between them. Slowly, now that the threat of capture was all but gone, they made their way to a familiar latch just off of where they had hidden. Pushing it open, latch revealed a door to the pawn shop.

 

Predictably, the owner, a small old woman who had lived life as a hardened criminal decades prior, was waiting for them. The Madame smiled when she saw them emerge from the door.

 

“Put that there.” She waved towards her work table without a greeting as she hobbled to the back of her store. Obediently, they moved over and emptied out the bag of weapons they were sent to get. What a lady her age would need with weapons was beyond them but considering where they live and the lady’s past, Jason wouldn’t be surprised if she had a full armoury somewhere.

 

“Here you go, darlings.” She emerged from the back with a wad of cash and a basket of bread.

 

Reaching for their pay, both boys grinned proudly. “Thanks.”

 

*

 

Jason's eyes snapped open.

 

A dream. Typical. He sat up with a tired sigh. 

 

He dreamt most nights so it was hardly atypical. In fact, all things considered, tonight's dream was relatively pleasant if not a bit confusing. 

 

Most night, his dreams were about his death or his resurrection. Jason hated those, the memories that haunt him — the manic laughter, both his own and  _his_ , sounding so different yet frighteningly alike, to the point of driving Jason crazy because he couldn't distinguish —  and every time he would wake up, he wouldn't be screaming, he would be dead silent, unable to do more than roll over, sweating and shaking uncontrollably as visions of flashing inferno and green sludge blurred in front of his eyes. Jason didn’t remember much of what happened after he wakes up, too caught up in the past, but he would often come to, to either Artemis’ or Bizarro’s arms wrapped around him while the other held a steaming mug of milk and honey or tea in front of him.

 

It was nice and Jason was grateful that he didn’t have to be alone to deal with himself.

 

Evidently, the one he had tonight was nothing like that. Instead of violent deaths and hellfire, the dream tonight was, weirdly enough, about his childhood. It wasn't like he's never had such dreams before, he did or he assumed he did. Most of the time, he woke to remember very little of such dreams but was always left with a pleasant buzz in his head, a kind of quiet that his nightmares never gave him. 

 

It was odd that he remembered tonight's so vividly. He could still feel remnants of pride for a task completed in a life long passed and a distinct feeling that he forgot something. Maybe it had something to do with his return to Gotham? He wasn't sure.

 

Looking out the window, Jason saw that the sky was still bright, which made sense since he had only gone to sleep after dropping by the crime scene. He dropped his head back onto the bed without resistance, letting the force knock him breathless for a moment. Memories of all kind suffocated him and he found that some impact — light or otherwise — usually helped him get rid of any lingering memories and cleared his head, allowing him to breathe easier, cope better. It wasn’t healthy.

 

On the very bad nights, when he had first left Gotham to set himself straight, before he had Artemis, Bizarro, Kory, Roy or anyone, when he was alone, it was the same kind of coping mechanism that prompted him to go out, half-cocked and almost delirious, looking for criminals to fight. More often than not, it ended with him lying in a dark, dank, filthy corner of an alley in a puddle of water leaking from the garbage bins and blood, sticky from grim and sweat and surrounded by corpses. If he was lucky, it would rain and the falling liquid would pelt him sharp and hard enough that he would begin feeling again. And when the sky started turning colour, he would drag himself up. Dripping wet, beaten down and exhausted from a full night of not-sleep, he would make his way to whatever rundown shack he was staying in and would be greeted with hollow silence with only his own shadow for company. He cleaned himself, patched himself up and berate himself for his stupidity.

 

Himself; alone.

 

The next day, he would leave the town.

 

(He had almost no memory of what happens during his rampages. But, if he sometimes woke up to his jaw aching, blood in his mouth and his ears ringing, surrounded by fallen bodies covered in very telling bite marks, he didn’t think too hard about it.

 

Flashes of fang and claws tearing through flesh would cut through his mind making him feel like what everyone thought he was: A monster.

 

It helped that such episodes decreased in frequency as he began recovering pieces of himself again. Artemis and Bizarro have never seen him like that. Kori and Roy witnessed it only once and managed to subdue him without injuring themselves. It was a secret Jason shared only with them.)

 

Now, Bizarro usually stopped his more violent tendencies with some aggressive cuddling or, if that doesn't work, he would spar with Artemis until the hazy draught of his memories alleviated from his mind and he could think again.

 

But his teammates weren’t here right now. Bizarro had wondered out as Jason had returned and Artemis had gone out to shop for more inconspicuous clothes for them. They weren’t back if the silence in the apartment was anything to go by and they would be angry (disappointed, it was much worse) if they found him lying in the ditch somewhere or even minutely damaged, so Jason resorted to himself repeated flop himself onto his bed until the fog cleared.

 

When he felt better, Jason pulled himself off his bed. He was tired and a glance at his phone told him he barely had 3 hours of sleep in, but he also knew he wasn’t going to get anymore. If he tried, he would be baiting nightmares and that wasn’t something he wanted when neither of his teammates were present. After a quick moment of deliberation, Jason started putting on his gear.

 

Carolyn had called him, hysterical and scared, the minute news of the murdered omega broke (by word of mouth, not officially), terrified that it was her friend. Jason had just left the Clocktower at that point, so he had agreed to drop by the check it out. Jason wasn’t lying when he said that Lower Gothamites never, _never_  call the police unless whatever it was they found was so horrible they were sure it wasn’t the typical gang hits, so either way, he would have gone down to have a look, or at least stolen some police files to scan over. Carolyn calling him just hastened the process.

 

Thankfully, it ended up not being her friend but now, Jason had one more case to work on.

 

To say the call was unusual would be an understatement. As far as Jason could tell, the body was perfectly intact — no blood, no gore, in fact, no damage at all. It had confused Jason enough that he had personally checked for signs of life because the corpse honestly just looked asleep.

 

It was dead, that he confirmed, but Jason saw no reason why anyone in Lower Gotham would call the police for something like this. Sure, it was unusual to find a corpse completely intact with no obvious indication of the cause of death but poisons were common and Lower Gothamites knew better than to stray from their own businesses. The police had arrived before Jason could take samples, so now, he would have to do his own digging.

 

And if Jason was craving a warm cup of honeyed milk, no one else had to know.

  

* * *

 

Stephenie flipped her currently dark brown hair as she absently swirled her drink. Her eyes gilded lazily across the room. Through the veil of cigarette smoke, she could see patrons, faces no doubt hidden behind some sort of disguise like hers was. The Devil’s Well wasn’t the kind of place people would want their faces seen. She was wearing some of her more tawdry clothes, knowing better than to wear something truly expensive— it was a call-sign to get robbed or at the very least draw unwanted eyes. Joining the Bat-clan had helped her learn the true definition of stealth and discretion, but even then she had to watch herself or she’d slip up sometimes.

 

The bartender, a tall female alpha with long fiery curls stopped in front of her and cocked her head at the untouched drink. “Not to your taste?”

 

Stephenie blinked. “Uh no, it’s fine. I was just thinking.”

 

“Want to think aloud? Maybe I could help.” The alpha leaned forward across the bar, looking at her with keen green eyes. Abruptly, Steph noticed how long her lashes were and how pretty the soft freckles made her. It almost made her forget how forward the alpha was being. Stephenie bit her own lips in silent reproach. No dammit, she was on a mission — self-imposed, but a mission, all the same. She would _not_  be distracted.

 

“I don’t want to bother you.” She mumbled as airly as she could manage, resolutely looking at a point just between the alpha’s eyebrows. She had nice skin. 

 

The alpha’s crimson red lips twisted into a small, wickedly attractive smile that made Steph’s heart leap a little. “It’s no trouble, love. There aren’t many people now anyway.”

 

Stephenie glanced around and sure enough, the counter was fairly empty, save a discreet looking man with the lower half of his face covered by a dark mask leaving a shock of shoulder-length platinum blonde hair loose to fall around his face, further obscuring his face. When he lifted his hand to take a drink, Steph understood why he was trying so hard to hide his face — encircled around his wrist was a silver band. Just two seats away from him was another male, dark hair, eyes were hidden behind sunglasses that no one would need in such a place. He also had a silver band around his wrist. Dragging her eyes away from the other occupants at the counter, Stephenie turned back to find iridescent green staring back at her. Seeing that she had her attention again, the alpha tilted her head to the side in question drawing Steph’s eyes as they followed the red curls as they slid enticingly pass the alpha’s shoulders, curling around her collarbones and  _lower—_

 

Steph snapped her eyes back to meet green, swallowing. She could see the amused gleam in the alpha’s eyes and Stephenie knew that she noticed her checking her out. Involuntarily, her cheeks flooded with warmth and she bit down on an embarrassed groan. Way to not be distracted, the voice in her head grumbled at her. 

 

“What's troubling you, love?” The alpha purred, a slim black tail Stephenie hadn’t noticed before curled up to brush coyly against the bartender's cheeks. God, it wasn’t fair. How could a single person be so hot? Stephenie bit her lip. She was on a mission, and she was going to complete the mission before she began gallivanting. She’ll show Bruce ‘easily distracted’.

 

Clearing her throat, she quickly centred herself, reminded of the reason she came. She scrambled for all the interrogation-through-seduction techniques she's learnt from Cass and applied them the best she could. Peering at the alpha through her lashes, she tried for a coy smile as she said, “Well if you insist... I was wondering, is it true that the Red Hood is back?” She tried to keep her voice low and husky as her eyes watched the alpha keenly. 

 

There was an instant change in the alpha's demeanour. Nothing much, nothing Stephenie would have noticed if she hadn’t been looking so closely, but there it was, the smooth fur of the tail bristled just barely and there was a twitch in the left eyebrow. It wasn’t much and it didn’t actually tell Stephenie whether or not it was a confirmation or just a reflex reaction to the vigilante himself but it told her that the alpha was at the very least familiar with the man she was referring to. Stephenie felt herself lean forward as she latched onto the potential lead, struggling to bottle up her excitement at the breakthrough. 

 

“That's an unusual question.” The alpha said slowly as she raised an eyebrow. She leaned back slightly to look at Stephenie properly.

 

Stephenie shrugged, swirling her drink the way she's seen Cass do it when she wants to exude an air of effortless enticement. “Maybe I’m just not the usual omega.”

 

There was a beat of silence. Stephanie counted twenty heartbeats before she peeked back at the alpha to see how it was affecting her. She was startled when her eyes met sharp, assessing ones.

 

She stared back as a cold prickle of instinctual fear, one that was embedded into her very DNA, scraped down her spine. Her mind raced back to the sinuous black tail and luminous green eyes.  _Oh_. What she had not registered before suddenly seemed very obvious and very dangerous.

 

She froze.

 

“I’ll say.” The red-haired woman murmured, her tone unchanging from the casual, light tone despite the way her eyes were tracking Steph like the prey she was. "No, the usual omega indeed. Ballsy, to even try to play with me."

 

The alpha paused, head tilted, leaving a beat of contemplative silence as she watched Stephenie attempt to wrestle her instinct under control. Then, she leaned forward again, this time, over Stephanie, making her instinctively cower down on her seat.

 

“Tell me, little mouse,” The alpha crooned, tongue curling lazily around her words as she trailed a finger slowly across Steph’s arm, claws unsheathed. “Why do you want to know?”

 

Stephenie gulped, feeling hot and cold all at once. The alpha placed her hand gently on her arm, claws resting lightly but intently against the thin skin above her vein and Steph broke out in goosebumps. She stared unblinkingly at the alpha, a paralyzing chill spreading through her body and she could barely stop herself from trembling in trepidation. She couldn’t move.

 

The alpha held her eyes for a long breathless moment, longer than anything Stephenie ever had to experience and she didn’t— couldn’t— make herself move—

 

When finally,  _finally_ , the alpha slid her eyes away. Once the green eyes, now slits, moved away from her Stephanie felt whatever it was holding her fast begin loosening and she slumped against her seat, hands reaching to grip her chest as she heaved lightly for air.

 

She joked about staring death in the face all the time when she was on patrol but this was different. This was the real deal. Stephenie had never, ever looked into the eyes of someone whose entire genetic makeup was _made_ to kill her — a prey staring into the eyes of its natural predator. It was petrifying. She could still feel the barely contained panic clawing its way up her throat, working its way into a scream that her body couldn’t let out because she couldn’t move, not even a muscle. It was reminiscent of what her mother once told her when she came home crying from being picked on. _Stay still, be quiet and maybe they won't notice you._ Perhaps it was a natural survival tactic for dormice. 

 

It was ineffective and stupid, Stephanie decided with more than a little contrition.

 

She jerked back when she saw the alpha reach out to her, legs scrambling as she felt her primal side screaming for her to run and Stephanie barely felt the shift in her centre as her chair tipped backwards, her hurried mind unable to comprehend. It simply chanted ‘cat, run, cat, run, run run  _run_ ’ as she slowly fell backwards.

 

Clawed hands once again wrapped around her arm, but this time, it yanked her forward and Stephenie didn’t have time to freak out. In an instant, her chair slammed back on the ground throwing her forward and across the bar into the alpha who caught her nimbly, their upper bodies pretty much pushed flushed against one another. They stared at each other in silence until the alpha cleared her throat. She let go of Stephenie letting her slide back into her seat, putting the bar between them.

 

The noise they made had attracted the attention of the whole bar and Stephenie could feel eyes on her from all around. In her mind’s eye, she saw flashes of silver bands on wrists and suddenly, her skin felt prickly and sensitive, aware that she was surrounded by people with the ability to shift into forms that could shred her, human or mouse.

 

A gentle clink drew her attention back to the cat shifter. Silently, the alpha slid a drink to her along with a napkin. “My treat. For scaring you,” she said subdued, and their eyes met for a brief moment before the tall alpha moved down the counter to the opposite end where she began serving another customer.

 

Stephenie reached for the drink and only then did she notice the cranberry vodka running down her arm. Her glass was empty and chipped. Ah.

 

Shifting the new drink aside, she picked up the napkin and as she opened it up to wipe her arm, she saw dark ink within the folds.

 

_Lylia_

_Not here._

_xxxxxxxxxxx_

 

Careful to keep her expression steady, Stephenie angled precisely and wiped it up her arm. Then, she made a show of looking around for a trash can before folding the napkin and slipping it into her pocket with a small inward shrug. She downed the new drink in a single swing and left the money and the number of a decoy phone under the glass the same way the cat did it.

 

She left without her backwards glance. Behind her, she heard the sound of glass clinking and she smiled.

 

* * *

 

The body, a woman estimated to be in her late twenties or early thirties, with dark brunette hair and a petite body clad in a tight scarlet dress, was being moved down to the lab for an autopsy. As the body was moved away, Jim Gordon stared down at the single clue they found on the victim’s person — a piece of paper, a note. Behind him, he could the buzz surrounding the unlikely looking piece of evidence.

 

“I still think that’s just a random note that got caught by accident?”  One of the junior officers, an omega with rabbit ears, muttered as he passed the ziplock bag over to another officer with gloved hands.

 

“I don’t know, man. The Red Hood’s known to be a wolf shifter. This could literally be as good as a confession that he’s responsible for this!” Another officer argued as she carefully slid the note between two glass sheets. She then placed the note and the glass preservation sheets into the ziplock and sealed it.

 

“Who would leave a note that would oust themselves? He’s not stupid.” The rabbit shifter scoffed back. They had begun walking back to the car where the evidence case of kept, all the evidence would go there and that would be the place Jim would go to the get the note for Barbara to scan.

 

“Who knows,” the female shark shifter shrugged, “The dude’s crazy.”

 

“Yeah, but not stupid.” was the final protest Jim heard before they were too far away, no doubt continuing their argument.

 

Jim pinched between his brows, trying not to lose patience. He forgot sometimes, how much the newbies like to speculate. Unprofessional conduct but what could he do, it was human nature and he couldn’t stop that.

 

Jim watched as the remaining officer cleared out until he was the only left. He closed his eyes and he could see the words of the note, words a parody of a well-loved tale.

 

_Once upon a time,_

_as the story goes,_

_the big, bad Wolf_

_Told Little Red,_

Come Play.

 

Okay.

 

_And so, the game began._

 

The story of Little Red Riding Hood. A classic tale for a classic murder mystery. A victim dressed in red and a potential suspect is known to be an insane wolf shifter sighted on the crime scene — Little Red Riding Hood and the Big, Bad Wolf. It was an obvious link. Was it too obvious? Maybe. But everything became obvious once linked with logic and who was he to say that this was any different?

 

Jim breathe blew mist into the cold air, his hands clenching in his coat pockets to preserve warmth. The temperature was dropping again, and soon Gotham would be buried under white. Seasons have passed, almost a year, but his mind still took him elsewhere, to another wolf, in almost another time.

 

He could still see clearly, the large silver streaked wolf, the way the fur under its throat and chest had been matte with crimson liquid, pouring from where the Batarang had sliced open. It had been furious, hackles raised, ears flat and lips pulled back over razor sharp teeth, its amber eyes were flashing and snapping like a tempest, a wildfire, as he snarled at them. But more than that, more than the lethal dose of fury, Jim remembered the despair that coloured its eyes. How it looked so utterly betrayed but also resigned. World shatteringly desolate and anguished in a way that Jim couldn’t understand but could all the same because it was the kind of pain and misery that everyone, in the darkest recesses of their minds, feared and loathed.

 

He had seen that all in the wolf, in an instant, just before it had vanished in a bellow of smoke when their eyes had met for only an infinitesimal fraction of a second and Jim had felt it. He felt, without a shred of doubt, that the man and wolf under the Red Hood, was irrevocably human. 


	4. Phone calls & Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of Dick's thoughts, reflections and resolutions, a few telling phone calls and some Outlaw family moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. School has me dead. Hope you guys like the new chapter though :)

It was dusk. The hazy light of the sun had slowly dimmed to nothing, and the shadows were coming out to play. In a nondescript, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop a little away from the main crime street, a woman sat at the back, discreet and unremarkable, enjoying her coffee and waiting for her client, when in front of her, the phone blinked alive with an incoming call. An unknown number.

 

Raising an eyebrow, she slowly placed the phone to her ear. “Who is this?” She asked tentatively into the phone, fingers positioned, ready to hang up.

 

Through the phone, she could hear nothing but static and heavy, erratic breathing. There was no reply. It was disturbing to say the least. She frowned.

 

“Hello?”

 

More static and more breathing. Then, the breathing cut off and she heard a scratchy voice rasped out, “Carolyn.” 

 

She felt chills streak down her spine at the sound of her name. “ _Who is this._ ” She said with more force, hand tightening on her phone. It was never a good thing to have a stranger know your real name.

 

There was a rhythmic thumping. After a while and more irregular breathing — was this person running? — she finally heard a reply. “—me, Vik.”

 

Carolyn felt her frown deepened into a scowl in response to the name of her missing friend. Seriously, had Viktor been gone so long that people thought it was alright to start pranking her now? “I won’t ask again, who is this? It’s not funny."

 

“It’s— me,” The person, apparently Viktor, claimed breathlessly.

 

Carolyn’s lips thinned. “Say I believe you, why did you disappear for two whole weeks? Whose phone is this? Where the hell are you?”

 

There was nothing but pants for another moment, before he responded, words broken by his harsh breathing. “— chasing me— make it.”

 

“What?” Carolyn unconsciously sitting up from her seat and leaning forward slightly as the tone of urgency translated through the phone. 

 

“They’re—asing me— not gonn—ake it” He panted.

 

“Who’s chasing you?” She demanded.

 

There was thunk and the person — Carolyn refused to think it was Vik — made strangled sound. There were more gasps before the rhythmic thumping — running, Carolyn realised — picked back up more frantically. “Jac— als.”

 

Carolyn’s scowl deepened even as her blood instinctively ran cold. “Jackals? Why?”

 

There was no opportunity for her to get her answer because in the next moment, there was a muffled thump and a scream cut through the speaker, raw and scared. A harsh scrape of gravel told Carolyn the phone had dropped on the ground but screams continued, desperate and pained until it cut off into a weak, distant gurgle, then nothing but static and a background buzzing that was probably the phone’s damaged speaker. A second later, there was an odd scuffling and loud breathing close to the speaker followed by a sharp crack, then complete silence. The call had been cut off.

 

Carolyn sat back in shock the phone stiff by her ear, wondering if she had just listened to the murder of her missing friend. No, it couldn’t be Vik. He wouldn’t be involved in anything to do with jackals or predators in general. It couldn’t be him. Could it? No, it wasn’t him, the guy was too much of a scaredy cat.

 

But what if it was?

 

Carolyn didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know if it was Vik or someone who called the wrong number (but he said her name. Why? Was it a coincidence? But then, when is it ever a coincidence?). Whoever that was, what had gone down was definitely a murder or a really violent kidnapping. She needed to tell somebody. Her fingers, sweaty and shaky, pulled the phone from her ear. She dialled a new number. After a few rings, the call went through.

 

“Jason?”

 

* * *

 

Dick landed on the roof of the GCPD’s main office feeling determined. In his ear, he could hear the rest of his family reporting in from their various patrol locations but he chose to ignore them as he crept across the rooftop and quietly picked the lock to the roof-access door to slip in.

 

Usually, he wouldn’t need to break into the GCPD since as a civilian he was a cop and as Nightwing he was acquainted with the commissioner but after his chat with Barbara, he knew that she was helping Jason hide and if he left it up to her, he would never see Jason until he wanted to be seen which was never going to happen

 

Barbara had been his best friend since his Robin days and he knew her better than the back of his own hand; he could tell that she was purposefully evasive when speaking about Jason and he knew the tell-tale signs enough to know her brand of protective determination when he saw it. Barbara would not give Jason up, not if her life depended on it. Dick knew because he’d been on the receiving end before; true to her tigress lineage, Barbara fought with fierceness when it came to her own.

 

Dick knew that if he wanted to see Jason he would have to bypass Barbara’s watchful eyes – both literally and digitally – which was why, since speaking to her earlier today, Dick had been prepping. Scouting out blind-spots, planting EMPs and placing convenient breadcrumbs to mislead both Barbara and Jason, who was likely watching out too. He was also placing false trails for the Bats so that he doesn’t accidentally lead them to Jason. He did everything he could to make sure that no one watching would be any wiser to what he was up to.

 

So here he was, sneaking into the police station in order not to alert Barbara or anyone else that he was here.

 

If Jason was seen around the quarantined area, he was definitely going to work on the case. Since he was a teen, Jason had a penchant for not being able to leave things as they are. Which was why, even though people like to assume that he wasn't all that smart given his tendency to act with his fist first and his general ‘brawns before brains’ vibe, Jason was actually the family's best detective after Bruce and Tim. Unsolved mysteries, unusual circumstances and unanswered questions were right up the alley of things Jason couldn’t stand and he would not rest until he got the answers — And this case was all of the above.

 

Jason was persistent when he found something he wanted. He would work on this case, of that Dick was certain. Which was why he had planned accordingly.

 

Dick might not be as much a detective as they were but he didn’t make it this far as an idiot either. Given his usual behavior, Jason would head to the GCPD station to get samples and nick some case files to go over the very same night — he had to, since the police had gotten there before he could thoroughly investigate the body and the fresher the body, the more accurate the results; Jason would want to get to the body as soon as he could, which would be tonight.

 

Dick knew that Jason will come back for a fact because he had been with the earliest police car dispatched to investigate the call as a temporary transfer from the BCPD’s homicide investigation department, and he had seen the tail end of the Red Hood just as he disappeared over the top of a building.

 

Dick had then gone over to see if the body had been secretly Bat-style tampered with — it hadn’t. Which meant Jason likely didn’t have time to do so. That meant that he will come back for it, and the only way he could do that is if he had the original body and that could only be found in the GCPD’s main station.

 

Really, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where Jason would be headed next. It just took someone who knew him well enough and had the right kind of information. The Bats all knew Jason’s patterns but they didn’t have the second half of the puzzle — they didn’t know that Jason hadn’t gotten the samples he needed. Dick let them assume that he did when the family had all gathered to discuss how they could quickly remove him from the streets because had they had known the truth, they would have come to the same conclusion he did, faster even — that Jason’s next stop would be the GCPD.

 

As it was, the Bat’s didn’t know the truth and Barbara and Jason didn't know that Dick was at the crime scene early, so they wouldn't suspect that he knew that Jason would come back for the body. So here he was, in the dark hallways of the GCPD, alone and uninterrupted in his personal quest.

 

The top conference floors were predictably empty and the lowest basement floors were the same but the middle floors, where the main departments are located, would still be bustling with those on the night-shift, so Dick had gone through the air vents to get to the autopsy lab which was in the basement. Dick had decided not to stay in the air vents in case Jason decided to come in through the same way.

 

He ended up hiding in the shadows at the corner of the pitch dark room with only some corpses for company. And he waited.

 

His relationship with Jason had always been vague and undefined. When Jason first joined the family, Dick had been too angry, too bitter to entertain the idea of having him as a younger brother or even a friend. Dick honestly hadn’t thought much about Jason, too focused on his feud with Bruce and on his own desires and grudges. On his part, Jason hadn't really engaged Dick either, not that he could blame the younger boy - Dick hadn't been the most friendly in those times, far from it. Dick could remember more than once where he had intentionally dragged Jason into his screaming match with Bruce, for nothing but the fact that Jason had been there and was Robin and Dick had been angry. Yeah, Dick hadn't been in the best of places. Even his titan friends had pulled back and hovered for a while, tired of his angry outbursts but worried about him nonetheless. Jason had no such qualms. He didn't care about Dick enough at that point to be worried (it's questionable he cared now) about him or to want to ‘be there for him’, so Jason avoided him. In manor, they basically moved around each other, prowling and wary and on Jason’s part, unwilling to engage or come in contact because Dick was volatile.

 

Put simply, before Jason’s death, their relationship was non-existent. They had no rapport with each other, not as friends and definitely not as brothers.

 

(In hindsight, that worked out alright for Dick because in the end, when he finally paid enough attention to notice Jason, it had definitely not been as a younger brother.)

 

When Jason returned, Dick had wanted to build something, to make up for his shortcomings before – to be there for Jason like he hadn't when he had been alive the first time.

 

And just like before, he failed. Spectacularly, at that.

 

He saw only the surface-thin insanity that coated Jason’s actions and he hadn't looked further. He believed the things the news outlets spouted about a killer, a monstrous wolf, straight from a nightmare, tearing through Gotham. A new villain. And he hadn’t looked further.  

 

Like before, he hadn't been there when Jason needed him. None of them had been there. So, it was partially everyone’s — Dick’s — fault that things escalated to the final showdown with the mad clown.

 

He should have dug deeper, he should have seen pass the act, to the man that he claimed was family. But he didn’t.

 

Again.

 

Maybe Jason realised the double standards he was held at, how little the Bat clan’s claims of family meant when it came to him. Only him. It was a fact. One that was hard to admit to but even harder to deny, and not for a lack of trying on Dick’s part. He had tried denial, had failed stupendously, and was just done with running away from facts.

 

And the facts were that, for all that they claimed Jason was their family and that they had mourned him dearly, it was them who had left Jason to dry when he had strayed from the path they set for themselves.

 

They, with their detective abilities and superior knowledge in human patterns and behaviour, saw that signs that screamed that Jason was under stress, was emotionally unstable, mentally compromised and suffering signs of trauma, and chose to ignore all of it. They saw how raw and hurt Jason was, saw all the ten-thousand different tell-tales of PTSD and chose to see it as maniacal, psychopathic behaviour because it was easier. Take him in, charge him and toss him into an alysium to be the neighbour of his insane killer. That’s it, done. Their hands were clean and it was easy.

 

And they did just that.

 

They threw him away like trash because it was easier. They wiped their hands of him and preferred to go back to pretending that Jason was in whatever peace they thought he had been resting in rather than a real, living, hurting person. They didn’t have to face the fact that they had a hand in making the monster Jason had become. It made them less guilty. It made Dick less guilty.

 

And he took the easy way out. Like a coward and like a child, he stuck his head in the sand and blocked out reality. If they didn’t see Jason, he doesn’t exist.

 

And after all that they have done, they still called Jason family, brother, friend. A good soldier. Dick couldn't magine how little that all meant to someone who had to dig themselves up from their own grave to see their killer not just alive and well but still laughing at them.

 

On the final day, before Jason disappeared for a near year, Dick finally saw through Jason and his uncontrolled bluster to see the man that was really there. Wounded, hurt and exhausted but there. That day, he saw the real Jason, his Jason but it was too late. When he had woken up, it was to an empty bed, the distress signal in his equipment blaring from where it was left on the floor and the news that Jason had disappeared. Jason was gone, untraceable and exactly like they had wanted — not there to remind them that he was alive and back. And to think, they didn’t even need Arkham to hide Jason away like a bad secret because in the end, Jason just needed to have no more reasons to stay and they gave it to him.

 

In retrospect, Dick could see that even to the final stunt, Jason had still been holding out, giving chances and hoping that Bruce, Dick — anyone — would prove that he meant something more than a dark smudge in their conscience, that they would see him and not just their idea of him. They failed him and that was it. Jason had given out all of his chances and he had nothing left to give. No reason (no family) to stay for but all the reasons to leave. So he left.

 

Dick couldn't say he blamed him. He was sure Jason’s throat wasn’t the only thing that Batarang cut that night. 

 

It was one of those moments where, as it was happening, no one knew how significant it was but looking back, Dick saw it as it was — irreparable damage done and dealt. Because if Dick was honest (and he tried to be nowadays), he wasn’t sure if he could find it in himself to forgive the Bats if he had been in Jason’s place.

 

(Dick’s gut clenches just thinking about how much pain Jason must have been in when that Bat’s insignia sliced his throat open. What he must have been thinking when it happened. A chance left severed and bleeding, unwanted and scorned. Thrown back in his face like it meant nothing.)

 

But Jason came back — _he was back_. It didn’t mean he forgave them. Hell, he could be back to kill them for good this time. It didn't matter. This time, Dick wouldn’t make the same mistakes. This time, if nothing and no one else, Jason will have Dick on his side, for better or worse. Whether Jason wanted him around was another matter entirely but the end result would be the same. After all, Dick has been told on numerous occasions and quite reliably that he was _very_ good at persistently hovering.

 

Just then, a subtle click told Dick the air vent panel was opening and that effectively pulled him out of all his thoughts. Dick wondered if Jason knew, the fact that the whole family knew that he was back.

 

Dick watched as a dark silhouette slip silently down from the vent and onto the ground in a crouch. After a motionless heartbeat, the figure stretched to his full height and moved gracefully, steps light, towards where Dick knew the body laid. Jason pulled out a syringe and moved it out of sight and a moment later, he drew it back to reveal the same syringe filled with dark liquid. Blood.

 

As Dick watched Jason begin his sampling procedure, he felt his heart seized because now what? He had Jason right in front of him, now what?

 

Jason continues moving through his process methodically, oblivious to how fast Dick’s heart was beating or just his presence, really. Dick couldn’t help but bitterly wonder what reaction the younger ex-Robin would have if he did know Dick was right behind him, hiding in a dark corner, watching him like a damn creep. He’d yell probably and try to engage a fight. It wouldn’t go down well. Jason would be upset.

 

That thought both pained Dick and stayed his hand. He made no move to make his presence known. Instead, he watched Jason for as long as he could, like the true creep he was, and even after Jason was gone, he stayed there, crouched in a corner staring at where his omega was standing. It was only when his muscles began cramping up did he stand to move away.

 

‘At least I saw him. That was what I wanted, wasn’t it?’ He thought bitterly as he glanced at the corpse one last time.

 

Jason wouldn’t come back anymore. He had no reason to. If Dick had wanted to see Jason this was only his chance and now, it was over.

 

Dick moved over and stood where Jason stood not 30 minutes ago and stared down at the corpse. Was it weird to be jealous of the fact that the corpse had more interaction with Jason than Dick did? Probably.

 

The cloth covering the corpse was out of place and Dick couldn’t help the fond roll of his eyes. Trust Jason to leave no clue behind but a baffling shift in the cloth that the police would no doubt notice. He probably did it to prank them, seeing how much he hates the authorities. That thought brought another bittersweet smile to Dick’s face.

 

Quickly, Dick shifted the cloth to cover the corpse in the standard method and stepped back. With the way the cloth was placed, the hands of the corpse were eerily exposed and Dick could see a faint sliver of skin on the wrist of the corpse that was lighter than the rest and a butterfly tattoo on the side. Signs that the corpse was a person and had a life too, a life she will never get to live again.

 

Involuntarily, Dick thought of the signs of life he had seen on Jason’s body when he had been lying in the coffin, waiting to be lowered. Bruises and cuts from the _incident_ aside, Dick remembered distinctly the scar on Jason’s ankle and how when he saw it, on the still, cold body of what was supposed to be his little brother, he had instantly thought of the story he had heard from Alfred about how Jason had, in an attempt to make Alfred a birthday cake, tried to climb the kitchen counter to reach the top cabinet where the cocoa powder was and had slipped. The day had ended in five stitches and a birthday spent at the ER but Alfred had been smiling, helplessly fond as he recalled the incident to Dick when he had, on the rare occasion, gone back for a visit at the manor. Dick had cried when he saw the scar because it was proof that Jason had been a boy. A boy with a life Dick had too little part in.

 

Shaking his head clear of memories, he gave the corpse one last glance and a nod in a silent expression of his condolences and respect before slipping out. On the roof, he tuned back to the comm unit. No one found him amiss. Good. After travelling a good distance away from the police headquarters, he entered into a private chat link with Barbara.

 

“Hey Babs, need me anywhere?”

 

“Do I want to ask where you were?” She asked dryly, her keyboard clicking away on the other end.

 

“Nope.”

 

She gave him an exasperated huff. “Fine, keep your secrets. We’ll see how long you can hold them Mr Mystery. Anyway, there was a break in at the police headquarters.”

 

Dick quirked an eyebrow even though he knew the red-headed omega couldn’t see it. “There was a break in? As in, it already happened?”

 

“Yes. Approximately 40 minutes ago.”

 

“And you… didn’t know until now?”

 

“Whoever it was—”

 

“Was it Jason?” Dick couldn’t help but ask, maybe just a little spiteful that Barbara had contact with Jason.

 

There was an undiscernable pause, before Babs said, “No, it wasn’t him. I couldn’t tell who it was. Whoever it was used the blind spots in the cameras and somehow managed to slip in undetected. I only know now because the line came through. The perpetrator was seen by one of the police officers but he had apparently cut the line and the police took a while to get it back on and get a message to me. It seems like some files were taken. You’ll need to ask my dad.”

 

Dick snorted silently. This was a long way around to cover up for Jason and convince him that it was someone else but Dick didn’t call her out on her lie because if she knew he knew, then it was all over. He might have blown this chance but that doesn’t mean he wanted to blow all future chances.

 

“Okay, I’ll go check it out.” He said, instead.

 

“Thanks. Report in. I’ll keep liaising with the officers to find out more.”

 

Dick rolled his eyes. Yeap, definitely a long way around. “Got it. Nightwing, out.”

 

Standing on the rooftop, he shrugged and figured, might as well play along. Pivoting on his foot, he turned and went the way he came from, this time taking the route that would make him visible to Babs.

 

* * *

 

Jason had returned to his apartment to identical looks of disapproval from his teammates.

 

“Red him nightmare.” Bizarro had said unhappily, arms crossed over his huge chest.

 

Jason instantly denied. “No.”

 

Artemis raised a sceptical brow. “We can smell, Little one. Your fear. We do not like it.”

 

Under the combined stares of their disapproval, Jason’s shoulders had slumped pretty damn quickly. He might have pouted. And crossed his arms like a child. Maybe.

 

In the end, he had been allowed to stay on the balcony with a strict warning of, “Bizarro and I will be listening. If you try to leave, we will know”, though Artemis made it up to him by passing him a cup of warm honeyed milk.

 

Resting his elbows on the railing, he leaned over to watch the city come alive. It was past midnight and the real Lower Gotham was awakening. He enjoyed the peaceful silence, watching mist uncurl from his breathe until his phone began buzzing. Without looking, he picked up.

 

“Hello?”

 

“We found it.”

 

Jason knew immediately who it was and what they were talking about but still, he raised an eyebrow and calmly sipped his milk. “Found what?”

 

“You know what.”

 

"Do I?"

 

"Jason."

 

Jason shrugged even though the person on the other end was not there to see it. “Where is it?” He asked.

 

“Jason.”

 

“Where is the bow, Talia?” He pressed.

 

From the other end of the line, she sighed. “You cannot be upset with me forever.”

 

Jason sneered into the phone at that, spite and rage leaking into his next words “You _do_ have a pretty long forever to find out.”

 

There was another sigh. “It is in Israel.” 

 

“Thank you," Jason said, adding a touch of sincerity because against all expectations, even his own, he _was_ grateful. She didn't need to help him and they both knew that. This was her extending an olive branch — a rare act by all accounts. But he wasn't ready to forgive and he told her as much. 

 

“I have apologised.”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

She didn't say anything after that and they basked in silence, which had always been the way with them. Jason paid little mind to the phone by his ear, choosing to instead, focus on the streets beneath him. He watched as a mother hurried her toddler into an apartment directly across from his, glancing nervously behind her back. Just two streets down, a drug deal was underway. Absently, Jason made a note to looking into that later. He continued sipping his honey-milk concoction as he watched the city move. 

 

A soft breath of air brought his attention back to the phone call. “Call me if you need help,” Talia said softly. 

 

Jason didn't trust that tone for a second. “Maybe.”

 

“Jason.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

There was another soft sigh before the line went dead. Jason wordlessly slipped the phone back into his pocket and glanced at his teammates. Bizarro was watching looney toons on the television and Artemis was cleaning her axe.

 

He felt conflicted. He had promised Artemis that he just needed to drop by Gotham for a quick errand — not untrue at the time — but now, things have changed. What he had thought would be a quick run through the system for a prostitute gone astray was now something else entirely — serial homicide was much more troublesome than a missing person. This was no longer a stop-and-go in Gotham. It was likely he would have to stay for an extended period, possibly an entire month, if not more.

 

Arty would have his head.

 

Their hunt for the bow of Ra was still on-going and even now, he had his systems running to track it down. Artemis was getting impatient. It didn’t help that Gotham itself seemed to reject her presence. Even after 24 hours, Bizarro and her were still struggling to breathe. The duration had pass Jason’s estimation and he was beginning to get worried. They were metas, a little smog and haze shouldn’t be causing them so much trouble. They couldn’t stay much longer and they didn’t have to. The bow was in Israel. It made sense. Jason knew there had been covert Black Mask dealings in Israel and it was very likely that the bow of Ra had been sent there; there was a sizable market for the magical arts there, and there was surely a wealthy Isreali tycoon ready to give Black Mask a fortune if he managed to smuggle and sell the bow there. And now, the location of the bow has been confirmed. They have their next mission location.

 

By all accounts, they should leave.

 

What’s more, Barbara had called earlier, to tell him that the Bats knew he was in the city and were looking (hunting) to bring him in. Bruce had declared him a danger and all of them, save Dick — Jason didn’t want to look too closely at how he felt about that, — agreed that he was in some way connected to the murder, assuming he hadn’t straight up committed it himself. Jason was pass feeling indignant about the family assuming the worst of him, he didn’t care anymore but this made it clear that he had yet another reason to take his team and leave.

 

Really, Jason had all the reason to leave but, he felt… reluctant.

 

He had promised Carolyn to find her friend and he hadn’t yet. And now, with the omega homicide and the multiple missing omegas, it didn’t sit right with Jason to just leave, especially when he couldn’t trust the other Bats to look into it, not when it was Lower Gotham business.

 

He couldn’t leave but his teammates couldn’t stay. Go figure.

 

He wasn’t willing to brave Gotham and the Bats without his team (and it’s questionable whether they would be willing to leave him here in the first place) but he also didn't want them to stay if it’s bad for their health. The new Outlaws were important to Jason, more so than his previous team. It wasn’t because he liked Star and Roy any less. It was more about history.

 

Star and Roy both had a history with Dick and Jason knew for a fact that they kept in contact his predecessor and updated him on everything the Outlaws were doing. Jason never said anything but he knew and he didn’t like it. It was obvious that between the first Boy wonder and Jason, Star, at least, was more loyal to Dick. 

 

Biz and Arty were different. They were Jason’s own. Not Dick and Jason’s. Just Jason’s.

 

Call him possessive or whatever but no matter his feelings for the first Robin, after a life of hand-me-downs from Dick Grayson it felt nice to finally have something of his own. So, yes, Arty and Biz were very important to Jason. They were, dare he say, his family. His and his only so he was not willing to compromise on their health and safety. If staying on Gotham made them sick, Jason wouldn’t want them to stay. But that doesn’t change the fact that he had unfinished business here and couldn’t bring himself to leave.

 

Jason needed time to consider his options. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dropped more clues here ;)
> 
> Some thoughts: Been thinking of adding another classification group aside from prey and predator. Scavenger, maybe. And I think predators require deeper classification aside from 'predators' since as some of you point out, a lot of animals can be both prey and predator. This world building is becoming more complex than I foresaw. Let's see how things go.


	5. Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some realisations are made. Stephanie provides perspective.

Jason was running on fewer hours of sleep than the number of fingers on one hand. He was having a bad day. 

 

“Babs. Any updates? ‘Cause I have some and they ain’t good.” He said as he stepped through the makeshift window of the Clocktower. As he spoke, he made deeper into the dark room towards the silhouette of the Oracle.

 

“Ditto.” Barbara swivelled around from her wheelchair and heaved a tired sigh. Her glasses skewed from her hands rubbing between her eyes and her red hair was balled up in a dingy, tangled mess on one side. The eye bags under her eyes were prominent enough to look like someone punched her. Jason tried not to do a double take.

 

“Woah. Uh, okay. I think it’s pretty obvious which one of us is having the worse night here.”

 

Barbara glared venomously at him. “Got something to say, Todd?”

 

Jason glanced at the clump of hair on the side of her head, back at her glaring eyes, swallowed slightly and tactfully mumbled ‘no’.

 

Barbara bared her teeth in a not-smile. “I hope you know that you’re one of the reasons I’m having a bad night.”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“You better be.” She grumbled darkly. “Anyway, you should already know but the Bats know you’re in town and they’re out sniffing for your tail.”

 

“Yeah, about that. _How_ did they find out?” Jason crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his hips as he narrowed his eyes accusingly at her. She scowled right back.

 

“Just to make it clear, I was _not_ the one the was sighted on a crime scene and broadcasted on national TV. I was _also_ not the one caught breaking into the police headquarters, which by the way, they already suspect is you. _And—_ ”

 

“Okay, I get it.” Jason slumped from his righteous pose, “It’s not you, it’s me.”

 

“Are you breaking up with me, Todd?”

 

Jason snorted, “With the way things are going? Maybe.”

 

An amused smile ghosted over Barbara’s lips in response before disappearing. She raised an eyebrow at him. “What were you doing at the station?”

 

Jason paused and blinked at her, “Samples. I told you.”

 

“And you got yourself caught?”

 

“What?” Jason said, mildly offended, “Obviously not.”

 

Barbara raised her eyebrow higher, sceptical. “Nicked a few classified files while you're at it?”

 

“What? No! What are you talking about?”

 

“So you took nothing but samples?”

 

“Isn’t that what I said?”

 

Barbara pursed her lips, stared at him for a moment, then tilted her head back and sunk into her chair looking like she wished it would swallow her. Jason was frankly insulted because he  _so_ did not deserve such treatment. Granted, he usually did try to get such reactions out of people but it’s only funny if he was going for it. If not, it’s just plain rude.

 

After a while of staring at Barbara’s increasingly horrified expression, Jason ended up demanding, “What? What did I do?”

 

Barbara tilted her head up and grimaced at him. “It’s not what you did, it’s what you didn’t do.”

 

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

 

“Someone broke into the GCPD just now at around 0012. I thought it was you but, well. Now I’m not sure.”

 

Jason coughed. “I wasn’t anywhere near the GCPD at that time. I was home, Artemis and Bizarro were both with me. I broke into the GCPD at around 7, when most of the police were either going home or out for dinner. I wasn’t caught.”

 

It didn't take long for them to come to the same realisation. Someone else had broken into the GCPD, taken samples and stolen classified files. Someone distinctly not Jason or any of the Bats.

 

“What did they take?”

 

“Everything. There’s nothing left”

 

“Do you have a copy?”

 

Barbara sent him the stink eye. “Obviously.”

 

She swivelled back around and started typing a slew of code and shit. Finally, she moved her wheelchair aside and usher Jason closer. “The victim was a female omega named Amelia Steed. Prey, clown fish. She was a 26 year old part-timer at the local family mart owned by a Steven Well. She also part-times at a nightclub called Octagon as a bartender. Suspected prostitute but that’s unclear. Single child, lives alone down at 52th street. Both parents dead, suspicious circumstances. Anonymously reported missing 4 weeks ago from a public phone.”

 

Jason’s eyes scanned through the files as Barbara listed of the important details. “Anything found on her? Signs of struggle, poison, anything?”

 

Barbara shook her head. “Other than her ID, some financial aid coupons and some hair ties, there was nothing on her. The autopsy came back clean. There was nothing but slight traces of alcohol but that could’ve been from anywhere.”

 

“Ingested alcohol?”

 

“No. No alcohol content was found in her blood but there was some found around the outside her mouth and on her lips. Nowhere else.”

 

“Huh. Weird. Cause of death?”

 

“Unknown.”

 

“Okay… so what _was_ found?”

 

Barbara paused and glanced up at him with an odd look on her face. “There was a note.”

 

“A note,” Jason repeated giving her a funny look, sure that what he thought about that was clearly showed on his face.

 

For some reason, Barbara did not share his amusement. “You should see it. It was found with the body.” She keyed more codes into the computer and a pdf scan popped up.

 

Jason stared at the words scrawled across the paper and he felt compelled to defend himself. “I didn’t kill her. It wasn’t me.”

 

Barbara turned to look at him, startled. “I know.”

 

Jason didn’t believe her. He was always the one blamed for these kinds of things. Give anyone the smallest hint that he had anything to do with any murder and he was immediately the killer, no questions asked.

 

Barbara seemed to know what he was thinking — and of course she did, it must be pretty obvious — because she reached out and gently touched his arm. “Jason, I know it wasn’t you.”

 

“Uh huh.” Jason remained unconvinced.

 

“Dick knows too.” She added. Jason didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing. 

 

“It’s not you,” Babs continued, “but it’s definitely about you. They’re targeting you and they’re trying to pit people against you.”

 

Jason snorted. “They sure aren’t aiming high.”

 

Barbara rolled her eyes. “This is no time to be self-deprecating, Jay. Someone’s out to get you. Someone killed and left a note to associate you with the homicide, then broke into GCPD, stole the note back before we could do any testing on it and got away with it. There were three omegas missing. This victim was one of them. That means whoever it is could kill more. There are still two male omegas missing.”

 

“Did you find who the other two were?”

 

“Alexander Moller, prey, a golden tamarin monkey. 22 years old, student at Gotham University, literature major. Reported missing 3 weeks ago by his mother. ” Barbara opened a succession of files and pulled up a photo of a cute brunet with freckles, grey eyes and a button nose. His details popped up beside the photo followed by another male with pale platinum blonde hair and striking blue eyes.  “Viktor Korkunov, the one you’re looking for. Prey, sparrow. 27 years old, known prostitute. Reported missing 2 weeks ago, off the record, of course, by Carolyn Gomez.”

 

Jason leaned his hip against the table. “Anyone else?”

 

“Not for now.”

 

“For now.” Jason nodded. “I have an update.”

 

He paused to let Babara open a new document before continuing at her nod, “Carolyn called me just now, after I broke into the GCPD. She said someone claiming to be Viktor called her. The person claimed he was being chased by jackals as the call was ongoing and the call cut off with a loud scream. She thought it was potentially a murder or a kidnap case.”

 

Barbara stopped typing and looked up to shoot him a doubtful look. “A pack of jackals chasing someone down — and we are talking about an entire pack of full shifters right? — and _no one_ noticed? There were no reports of a disturbance. Pretty sure if the scream was as loud as you say, there should be some, if not multiple call-ins.”

 

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know about that. She said the only hint of the location was the sound of rushing water.”

 

Barbara’s lips pursed. “Rushing water is pretty vague.”

 

“It’s all I have for now.”

 

Barbara glanced over her notes and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“Thanks, I’ll run things on my end to see what I get too,” Jason said, pushing off the table and getting ready to leave.

 

He had been here for a while and it was almost dawn. He needed to go before his teammates really came for him. And now, he had a lot to think about and discuss with them. He moved towards the door.

 

“Oh, and one more thing," Barbara said, almost offhandedly, "I think Dick’s onto us.” And Jason’s right shoulder slammed straight into the door frame as his legs suddenly malfunctioned. He let out a string of curses as he clutched his shoulder. He whipped around to glare a _‘what the fuck’_ at the tigress.

 

She grinned sharply and gestured toward her wheelchair. “That’s what you get for trying to leave me behind.”

 

Jason huffed but didn’t move from the doorframe. He didn’t leave either.

 

“Are you going to do anything about it?”

 

Barbara shrugged. “What can I do?” She asked innocently, as she started rolling herself to where Jason was standing. Once she reached, Jason moved behind her wheelchair and started wheeling her into her living room.

 

“So, you’re not going to do _anything_?” Jason tried to sound angry but he was pretty sure he sounded more horrified.

 

“There's nothing I can do, Jay.” Barbara explained patiently, “It’s either we don’t communicate at all and lay low, which we can’t if we’re going to work on cases, or we keep going like we are now and try our best to avoid them.”

 

Jason grumbled but conceded. She did have a point, even if he hated it. “Fine.”

 

He parked the wheelchair by the sofa and lifted her and placed her on the sofa. He flopped down beside her and sighed. “So what’re you going to do now?”

 

“Hang out with you?” Barbara joked.

 

Jason glared playfully and Barbara grinned back cheerfully. “Kidding. I’m currently running tests on the samples my dad passed me. Blood, tissue, DNA, anything I have. I’m planning to use the results to get the Bats off you. The results will be out soon, I’ll let you know.”

 

Jason hummed. “Thanks, the thought is nice, but I don’t it’s going to do much.” He said matter-of-factly.

 

Barbara’s brows creased but before she could say anything to that, Jason changed the subject. “So, why are we going to do about this mysterious new player?”

 

She frowned, clearly on to him with the not-so-subtle subject change but thankfully, she let it go. “The Bats and the police suspect you. Well, the police suspect other people too but the general consensus with the Bats is that it’s you.”

 

Jason nodded. That sounded exactly like the Bats. “You can’t tell them that it’s someone else. If not, you’ll have to explain how you know it’s not me.”

 

“Right, but it doesn’t seem like such a good idea to not tell them either. We don’t know how dangerous whoever this is, is. And if we don’t establish that there is someone else doing these crimes, they would all go on your head. That could only accumulate into something bad. Plus, an unknown factor is always dangerous.”

 

Jason shrugged. “There’s no way for us to tell them. Besides, it’s not like I don’t already take the blame. What’s a few more?” He wasn’t bothered by the idea of taking the blame. In the greater scheme of things, what does this matter? It wasn’t like you could worsen a relationship that doesn’t exist in the first place. It was sad but true.

 

But Jason knew Barbara was bothered by it and he had an idea of what she was about to say. He didn’t want to hear any of it, so he stood quickly and stretched. “I should go. My team will go nuts if I don’t get back soon, and I have full confidence that they could destroy Gotham, Bats in the way or not, if they wanted to.”

 

Barbara looked disapproving but once again, she said nothing. Jason knew she was letting him go easy. She seemed to be doing that a lot today and Jason found himself immensely grateful.

  

 "Goodnight Jay," She said softly.

 

"Night, Babs."

 

* * *

 

Jason lands on the fire escape just as the window opened to Artemis and Bizarro waiting to greet him.

 

“Red Him!” Bizarro said happily and swept him into the hug the moment he came into range.

 

“Hey buddy.” He said, smiling slightly as he patted Biz’s back fondly.

 

As soon as his feet touched the ground, he turned right into Artemis. She didn’t hug him but they exchanged a warm smirk and an affectionate shoulder bump. They moved deeper into the apartment and Jason slumped across the length of the sofa where Bizarro and Artemis joined him. “I got news. And we have stuff to discuss.”

 

Artemis, who sat on the ground by his head, looked at him. “Oh? Are you finally letting us in on the secret?”

 

Jason rolled his eyes at her lightly scathingly tone. “Yes, yes. Hunker down everyone, we have a lot to talk about.”

 

Artemis rolled her eyes at him. “Get on with it, Little one.”

 

So, Jason filled them in. By the time he was done, the look both his teammates were giving him were caustic. Artemis might even be developing a tick.

 

“You waited until this moment to inform us of such a dire situation?” She said it like a threat and Jason wasn’t sure it wasn’t one.

 

He held his hands out in surrender. “To be fair, this all happened in two days and we’ve only _been_ here for two days. Well, three if you count first night — morning — whatever.  You know what I mean, there just wasn't time.”

 

Bizarro had his arms crossed and was glaring sullenly at him. “Red Him.”

 

“Yes, exactly,” Artemis said, nodding at the clone before turning to level Jason her own glare. “You could have told us yesterday or just now even. There are madmen out there that have your face on their target boards, not to mention the mad clown and your insane Bats. All of this in consideration and you _still_ went out without telling us? _Alone?_ ”

 

Bizarro grunted and gave him a mean stare. Jason sulked.

 

“I’m fine. I have it handled.”

 

“You are human, you are fragile, and you are not fine.” Artemis retorted.

 

Jason grumbled. “I am not _fragile_ just because I’m not a meta— this isn’t even what we’re supposed to be discussing!” He protested indignantly when he remembered that he was an adult and he didn’t have to sit through this indignity.

 

Artemis’ lips thinned and she stared him down. Jason tried his best to match it. He was a fucking grown ass man, to hell with scary Amazonian alpha staredowns. After a while, Artemis’ eyebrows twitched and she looked away with a sigh. Jason pressed down on his lips to prevent a victorious smile from breaking out. For now, it was his win. The subject was dropped, though Jason knew he wasn’t off the hook yet. Judging from the look on Bizarro’s face and Artemis’ slight hover (though she’d probably deny that she was doing it), he wouldn’t be ‘off’ a (long) while.

 

“Fine. The Bow of Ra.” Artemis said, “It is in Israel but you are now required here, that is the issue, yes?”

 

Jason nodded.

 

“Then, we stay,” Artemis said, decided. It wasn’t so much a discussion as it was a statement.

 

Jason blinked. “Wait, what? No, we need to get the bow back as soon as possible and you guys can’t breath here.” He protested.

 

Their breathing had gotten worse. Now, even Jason’s human hearing could pick up on a slight wheeze whenever they took a breath. It was concerning. What’s more, they needed the get the bow back before anyone crazy/evil/stupid (or god forbid, all three) got their hands on it. Again.

 

“We are not leaving you here by yourself.” Artemis narrowed her eyes. Beside her, Bizarro nodded determinedly.

 

Jason frowned at both of them. “It’s not good for your health.”

 

“Then you better hurry and finish up here so we can leave. I do not like it here.” Artemis doesn’t quite sniff, she was too much of a warrior for that, but it was a close thing.

 

Jason made a face at her, but before he could say anything, Bizarro poked him.

 

Jason turned to swat his hand away, but Kryptonian reflexes beat him and Bizarro moved pass his defences and poked him again. “What?” Jason demanded. He wasn’t really annoyed but Bizarro’s control of his strength is still weak and even when he’s trying to be gentle, it still could bruise.

 

Bizarro shrugged. “Red Him, shift.”

 

“What?” He repeated, this time confused.

 

Artemis scoffed at him. “You have not shifted in over a week. If my knowledge is correct, that is not good for your kind. We will go for a run tonight.”

 

Jason frowned and distractedly tried to swat at Bizarro’s offending figure again. It was turning into a game if Biz’s delighted expression was anything to go by. “No, I’m fine. I’ve gone longer without shifting and I’m fine, aren’t I?”

 

Artemis gave him an ugly look. In the next moment, Bizarro manage to get another jab in and Jason tried to not yelp in indignation. His defence was usually absolute, stupid metas. “You are barely alive on a good day. I would not call you ‘fine’ by any definition of the word.”

 

“I’m fine.” He insisted, eyes still focused on Bizarro, ready to strike back.

 

Jason couldn’t see, but he could _feel_ that Artemis’ look got uglier. “You keep saying that but I have yet to see the truth in your claims. Continue making such outlandish and blatant lies and I will get you a dictionary so you can understand what that word truly means.”

 

Bizarro clearly agreed because he abruptly stopped their poke war and clambered onto the sofa to squash between the back of the cushion and Jason’s back. He then proceeded to aggressively cuddle him. Jason made a face but conceded to his fate. “Sticks and stones can break my bones by words will never hurt me.” He retorted, words slightly muffled when Bizarro stuffed blankets around them.

 

“Everything hurts you,” Artemis said with that condescending not-sniff again.

 

“Except words,” Jason said cheerfully.

 

Artemis’ lips twitched slightly, amused. “Shall we test that theory?”

 

“No way, you just want an excuse to throw a dictionary in my face.”

 

Artemis shrugged but didn’t deny. “You claim it will not hurt you so I don’t see a problem.”

 

Jason eyed her. “You’re really going to do it, aren’t you?”

 

Artemis smirked back. “When I get a dictionary.”

 

Jason made a mental note to possibly get his face insured. Artemis’ slyly smug look told him he going to need it, a lot of it.

 

“That aside,” Artemis said, waving this discussion off, “do we all agree that we shall stay for the time being?”

 

Bizarro hummed and Jason felt the vibration all throughout his body.

 

“Still, you guys can’t stay for long. You can barely breathe.” Jason pointed out.

 

“We will adapt.” Artemis dismissed, “The bow can wait until after you resolved this mess here. Besides, us staying will allow us to ensure that you do not get yourself killed. And that this business will end quickly.”

 

Jason eyed the Amazonian. “You guys aren’t gonna go, are you?”

 

“We are staying.” She confirmed.

 

Jason huffed in fond exasperation. “Fine, but if your condition gets worse, you’ll leave, I’ll make you.”

 

Artemis responded with a noise that was a distinct ‘we will see about that’.

 

Jason rolled his eyes at her and snuggled into Bizarro. “Wake me up when we’re going for the run.” And with that, he closed his eyes, resolute in his quest for a nap. He felt Artemis lay her head by his shoulder and as he drifted off, he could hear the sound of looney toons coming on.

 

The discussion had ended and his team would stay with him for time being, despite the fact that the bow was still out there. Realistically, Jason knew that they couldn’t stay for long, but for now, Jason couldn’t say he was too upset by them staying.

 

* * *

 

Stephenie was nervous.

 

The last time she encountered the red-headed predator was still fresh in her mind (well, it happened just a day ago so that wasn’t very surprising) and while she got off with only slight trauma and a free drink, she wasn’t so eager to wander close to the fire again. Still, she needed information and she was sure Lylia could give her some. The price for the information — and there was _always_ a price — was a matter she had considered long and hard, the result of which now resides in the thumb-drive she kept in her shoe. They were due to meet at 6 p.m. and that timestamp was approaching fast.

 

5 minutes to go.

 

She shifted in her seat that gave her a direct view of the only entry and exit way in the cafe. It wasn’t going to go much for her if shit hit the fan, but it helped her nerves. It also helped that the place was crowded and filled with people. The seat was at the back, obscured by some plants, good for a private conversation, but if she screamed, people would hear. As she moved, she could feel her weapons shift under her clothes, which were once again gaudy, but that's what she always wore when she enters Lower Gotham.

 

She was running on a tight schedule today. She had the movements of all the other Bats tracked on her phone. If any of them came within a 2-mile radius, she would automatically get a phone call so that she can extract herself from wherever she was, and all her electronic devices, including her com unit, will immediately shut down. She had considered that maybe she was going overboard, but she knew who she was dealing with. Every single one of then warranted an overkill because they were _that_ much. If anyone of the Bats found her here, working outside of assigned perimeters and on a private ( and so far, civilian) mission with Bat-gear, it would be the end of her.

 

Lower Gotham business had to be dealt by a Lower Gothamite. That was just how things were. Stephanie had been on alert since the first missing omega report came in, and now, there was another one. Two missing omega’s in a month, one of them a student from her school. Stephanie hadn't planned on going after this case since people disappear in Lower Gotham all the time but now, one of the missing, had turned up dead. Dead and reported to the police by an anonymous Lower Gothamite. To say it was unusual didn't even cover it. Lower Gotham and police just didn't go, ever. And Steph didn't think they were going to go now.

 

So, she decided to investigate herself. Unexpectedly, she might have an ally in this. Red Hood had returned just as she had decided to do her own search. She wasn’t sure if his return had been due to the missing omegas but if not, she could just fill him in. She didn't really have beef with Red Hood and yeah, there's drama there that she wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole but as far as she knew, Red Hood was born and raised a Lower Gothamite. So as far as she's concerned, they shared the same interest, and where there was a common interest, there was an ally. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that jazz.

 

The hard part though was finding him. It wasn't like she could just ask the Oracle or, even better, the old Bat himself, to help her track their estranged brother. So here she was, going to long way around.

 

The Devil’s Well had always been a landmine of information. If there was ever any place she could find someone with information on the Hood, it was there. And if there was ever anyone who was likely to know it all, it was the bartender of the place. Just her luck that that's exactly who she managed to snag. But she was distracted the previous time and she was determined not to let it happen again. She had given away more than she should the last time (she still could still hear the sultry voice crooning, _‘little mouse’_ ). This time, she took notes from the Big Bat himself. Talk less, observe more. And that's exactly what she's doing to do.

 

She glanced at her watch. 48 seconds left.

 

At 6 p.m. sharp, the chair across her scrapped on the floor as the tall alpha pulled it out. Steph, for all that she tried to maintain her professionalism, had to admit that outside, in the light where her features aren't hazed over by smoke and shadows, Lylia was a drop dead gorgeous alpha. That aside, it looked like she came straight from the bar.

 

“Just ended shift?”

 

Lylia smiled thinly. “It's been a long day.”

 

Stephanie cocked her head in silent inquiry and the redhead gave her a shrug. “Brawl. A big one. But that's not what we're here to discuss.”

 

Stephanie decided to cut to chase. She had patrol tonight and she couldn’t afford to be questioned about her whereabouts. Sure, one time is fine, but it’s the small things that eventually lead to the big picture and she’d rather not give detective and geniuses the puzzle pieces if she could help it. “I heard the Red Hood is back. Is that true?”

 

Lylia leaned back in her chair and watched her coolly. “Depends. Why do you want to know? Who are you?”

 

Stephanie stared back, weighing her options. As expected of someone so used to dealing in obscurity and dishonesty, Lylia will be hard to lie to but never one to fight losing battles (not when it mattered at least), Steph chose to take her chances with half-truths.

 

“I'm Stephanie Brown from Gotham University. I'm a journalism student. I want to get an inside scoop on the Red Hood.”

 

Lylia leaned back forward and placed her chin on her palm. “That's cute, but what's in it for me?”

 

Stephanie smiled. “I might not look like it, but I’m very resourceful, and I’m very, _very_ familiar with the backdoor dealings of bartenders, we have them in the bar nears the university too.”

 

Lylia laughed. “I assure you, there is a big difference between your bartenders in Upper Gotham and us down here.”

 

Stephanie knew how this worked. Make the wrong offer first before making the right offer. Come off just ignorant enough to let the target feel at ease, but just aware enough that they don’t turn you away for being a complete ditz. She made her first move, a false offer. Leaning forward, she gave a casual shrug. “Money’s money, and money talks. How much do you want?”

 

Lylia actually looked very amused by that. “For a little girl, you talk a big game.”

 

Stephenie shrugged again, painting herself the very picture of smug nonchalance. “Like I said, I’m very resourceful.”

 

Lylia laughed and shook her head. “I don’t doubt that. But sorry to say, that’s not how it works down here in Lower Gotham. We don’t want money, we want a fair exchange. An eye for an eye. You want information from me, you’ll have to give me some too.”

 

Stephanie pressed down on a victorious grin threatening to break out and stared evenly and solemnly back at Lylia. She made a show of hesitation and careful deliberation, before she said, “I’m working on another case, and I have information on that?” She looked hopefully at Lylia.

 

Lylia cocked her head. “What case?”

 

Stephanie took it slow, careful not to appear too eager or forthcoming. Nothing screamed suspicious like someone being too happy to give up their supposed hard-gained information. “The missing omegas?”

 

Lylia’s eyes never left her, and like the other time, Stephanie was unsure if her farce was working. “Why are you so interested in Lower Gotham?”

 

“My mother was from Lower Gotham. She said it’s dangerous here, but there are good people here too. So, I want to help.”

 

“With journalism?”

 

“Yes.”

 

There was silence as they assessed each other. Finally, to Stephanie’s relief, Lylia nodded. “Fine, that sounds interesting. What do you want to know?”

 

“Is the Red Hood back?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Stephanie looked at the alpha, surprised that the information was so easily given. “Is there a way to get in contact with him?”

 

“Depends.”

 

Stephanie nodded slowly. “Okay, is there a way you can get _me_ in contact with him?”

 

Lylia smiled calmly but in a way that made Stephanie feel like she was the one being played, not the other way around. “I can. Right now in fact, if you want.”

 

 _That_ threw Stephanie off. “What?”

 

Lylia kept watching, her eyes tracking Stephanie’s reactions. She did not respond. After stumbling a bit, Stephanie decided that it was a bluff and chose to call on it. “Sure, why not?”

 

Stephanie watched as Lylia, without blinking, pulled out her phone, pressed a few keys — too few to be typing an actual number, Stephanie’s mind supplied. Speed dial, this girl had Red Hood, Jason Todd, on speed dial — and pressed the phone to her ear. All the while, Lylia never broke eye contact and her movements remained slow and calm. After a few seconds, someone picked up.

 

“Hey,” Stephanie watched in amazement as Lylia’s lips twisted fondly as she greeted the apparently Red Hood on the other end, “I have someone here looking for you.”

 

The person on the other said something and Lylia rolled her eyes. “Obviously.” She glanced at Stephanie and smiled, “No, I have a stray little Bat here.”

 

Stephanie's eyes widen.

 

Lylia chuckled. “I wish you could see her face right now.” There was a pause and Lylia tilted her head towards the phone, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll pass it over.”

 

She passed the phone over to Stephanie. Stunned wordless, Stephanie took the phone and silently lifted it to her ear. “Hello?” She said uncertainly, not sure what she was going to get on the other end but also not quite believing that it would actually be Jason.

 

“Bat girl.” A rough baritone came through the speaker and yeap, that's him alright. Jason Todd.

 

Stephanie swallowed down memories of Tim bundled in gauze and casts, unconscious in the hospital bed after the Red Hood had broken into the Titan Tower. The last time she encountered this voice her best friend was dying and she was dealing with a madman. Now, he sounded normal and it's weird.

 

Lylia was still watching her and she scoffed. “Scared, little mouse? You asked for the big, bad wolf and you have him. Now you’re scared?”

 

Stephanie’s neck creaked with stiffness when she turned towards Lylia. Then, her attention was drawn back to the phone when Jason snorted at something or someone on the other side of the phone.

 

“Jason?”

 

“Names. But, yes. Why do you want?”

 

Her brain seemed to have short-circuited. “I– you're– I'm not ready for this.”

 

Jason made an amused sound. “Excuse me?”

 

“I didn't think I was going to get to talk to you today.”

 

There was beat silence before Jason burst out in unrestrained laughter. It was a nice sound, Stephanie decided, much nicer than his snarl and it almost instantly eased the tension in her body, enough for her to complain and protest at the laughter. “Listen,” She grumbled, “I expected a long process before I get to actually talk to you. I didn't think the random bartender I managed to get give me info was going to whip out her phone and have you on speed dial, okay?”

 

Jason was unsympathetic. “Want me to hang up? We could pretend this never happened and you can go back to however you planned on grilling ‘the random bartender’.”

 

Stephanie made a face. So that's how it's going to be to have Todd as a brother. Wonderful.

 

“This random bartender personally think that that is a wonderful idea.” Lylia purred, grinning at her, overly exaggerated and coy. The furry angle of her ears flickered at the top of her head indicating that she as listening to the phone call.

 

Jason scoffed. “I knew you'd say that. You _were_ always a sucker for blondes.”

 

Stephanie glanced down at her hair to make sure it was still brunette. It was obvious the feline alpha knew who she was.

 

Lylia shrugged, unrepentant. “It's like how you have a thing for a specific dark-haired, blue-eyed male alpha whose name starts with an ‘R’ and ends with ‘ichard Grayson’.” She fired back.

 

Stephanie moved the phone away as she pressed her lips tightly together to stop herself from bursting out with laughter. It was hard because even with the phone currently detached from her ear, she could hear Jason spluttering. Stephanie couldn’t stop the grin stretching across her face. “The two of you are horrible.”

 

“Horribly cute?” Lylia asked innocently.

 

“More like horribly devious.” Stephanie grinned at her.

 

“You mean deviously hot,” Jason said.

 

“That's me, not you.” Stephanie retorted. It earned her delighted laughter from both predators.

 

“I like you,” Jason grinned, “You and I are going to get along just fine.”

 

Stephanie smiled a smile just short of evil. “By ‘just fine’ you mean like a house on fire — inferno, mischief, massive destruction and a bonus of possibly giving Bruce an aneurysm?”

 

“ _Exactly._ ” Stephanie was sure Jason sounded way too gleeful but she really couldn’t fault him since she felt the same.

 

“So, should we started with torching the Gotham Tower?” Jason asked nonchalantly.

 

Stephanie made a show of doing some serious consideration. “Hmm, I don’t know, isn’t that a bit big for our first stint?”

 

“Nah, go big or go home baby.”

 

“Oh, I see.” Stephanie said seriously, “In that case, how does the Wayne Manor sound?”

 

“I said go big, not go to hell.” He responded, bone dry. Stephanie giggled at that.

 

“We could give the Bat signal a makeover. It’s due time.” She suggested.

 

Jason whistled in appreciation. “Genius. Name a time, we’ll do it.”

 

She felt her grin broaden. “Are we really? You better not back out on me, Todd.”

 

“No way, this is going to be _spectacular_. Just think about all the things we could do — a winky face, the poop emoji,”

 

“The Superman logo. That’ll get him twitching.”

 

“A giant dick,”

 

“To be fair, that would still an accurate representation of him.”

 

“ _More_ accurate than a bat, you mean.”

 

“True.”

 

“So, a giant dick?”

 

“Done.”

 

She snickered, already imagining Bruce’s face. She’ll probably have to take the fall for it since them communicating is a secret and all, but hey, just thinking about the look on Jason’s face if she sent him a photo of Bruce’s expression was going to be worth it. “Tonight?”

 

“I’ll meet you by the dock. I need to check something there. We can talk shop then. Keep the other Bats away.”

 

“Deal,” Stephanie said, satisfied and very excited. She could even sort of understand now, why the family was so torn up over the other omega. If this conversation told her anything, it was that Jason Todd was one charming, snarky bastard. 

 

When she passed the phone back to Lylia, she received a wry look.

 

“Somehow, I feel like I should issue an apology to the world for bringing you two together seeing as I might have just unintentionally brought about the end of it,” Lylia said as she eyed the large enthusiastic grin on Stephanie’s face.

 

“Too bad, that’s your burden to bear.” She beamed much more at ease with the alpha now that the air had been cleared. There was a certain liberation in having her secret identity known. It made things easier.

 

“So,” Lylia quirked a brow at her, green eyes curious, “is your name really Stephanie Brown?”

 

“It’s my real name,” Stephanie assured her. “So, how did you know who I was?”

 

“He showed me pictures of everyone, just in case.”

 

“Just in case?”

 

“He didn’t want me to get involved with the whole mess.”

 

Stephanie raised an eyebrow in silent question and gestured to the both of them and their entire situation.

 

“He needs protecting sometimes. I’m under the impression you Bats aren’t very good for him or his mental health. I needed to make sure you weren’t going to cause more damage.”

 

“You guys are pretty close.”

 

“We grew up together. He’s as close to a brother I will ever have. If he trusts you, I trust you.”

 

Stephanie blinked in surprise. “ _Does_ he trust me?”

 

Lylia shrugged. “No, but he was willing to meet with you later. That says something.” As she spoke, Lylia glanced at her watch and started gathering her things. Stephanie, taking the hint, did the same. It was almost 7 and she still needed to get to the manor to get ready for patrol. Not to mention the prep work she needed for the prank she was going to pull with Jason later tonight.

 

As they stood to leave, Stephanie shrugged. “I don’t think it has anything to do with my character or whatever. It’s probably more of the fact that he and I have no history. There weren’t any expectations or baggage.”

 

They strolled outside by side of the cafe and paused just outside. Lylia shook her head and looked at her. “I don’t think you realise that you have more ‘history’ than you think.”

 

Stephanie frowned. “What?”

 

“You were scared of him,” Lylia said as she started heading off in the opposite direction of where Stephanie needed to go. “You remembered what he was capable of doing and you were scared of it. That’s history.”

 

Before Stephanie could fully comprehend what was said, Lylia was gone in the crowd and she was standing alone, outside the cafe feeling like the alpha’s departing line was a very intentional statement, one she was encouraged to think about, even though nothing of such sentiment had been voiced.

 

It wasn’t untrue, she reflected as she turned and began trekking towards the metro. She did have a history with Jason even if it wasn’t directly personal. She was wary of him and feared his abilities and skills but she didn’t have anything personal against Jason. Maybe, at some point, she had hated the man but that was by proxy. She hated what he did to Tim and to her new family. Hated the hurt and damaged he caused. When he came back, the tension became almost tangible and every day, the manor was in a state of mourning. The glass case suddenly lost all meaning but simultaneously gained a new one. Instead of immortalising Jason Todd, it immortalised what Jason Todd once  _was_.

 

(Stephanie remembered looking at the case for the first time. She felt no inspiration or zeal from it. All she saw was the ghost of a suit and a dehumanized title that cruelly distilled a boy’s entire life into a mask and a moniker that was passed on. It was sad and it made Stephanie feel cold. She remembered promising herself that she would not end up like that. She would not be a good soldier for Batman because if not, that’s all she would ever be.)

 

The memorial, by representing the ghost of Jason Todd, rejected the existence of the current Jason. And for that, Stephanie understood why Jason had hated so the thing so much. But she also understood why the Bats acted the way they did. It was probably a shock to see Jason the way he was when he first returned. It was like when she first found out her father was a criminal. She just couldn’t put together the image of the father she had known and the criminal mastermind she knew he was. In her head, they were separate and for a long time, they remained that way. Stephanie did not want to acknowledge that her father could be a bad man. So she denied it. She pretended for the longest time that Cluemaster wasn’t her father and her father wasn’t the Cluemaster. She spoiled Cluemaster’s schemes, not her father’s.

 

Maybe that’s what the Bat’s were doing. They denied him because they just couldn’t comprehend or associate their memory of him with the him they were seeing. It was hard she understood.

 

She understood what it was like for both sides, but that had been in hindsight. In the moment, Stephanie hated Jason Todd. For the harm he caused, yes, but also something else.

 

Once she was able to be objective, Stephanie could admit to herself that she hated Jason because of how he could send the rest of the family into such a turmoil. She hated how obviously they cared about him and how affected they were by his words and actions. She had never seen, never expected to see, Bruce's face crumple like tinfoil after they came back from a night of dealing with Jason. And she had never seen Dick look more distressed as when Jason shoved him away, refusing his help even though he was already tittering on a blackout. She hated how much more they care about him and how much more he meant to them even when he was insane. He was always the exception because even when he was out of control, the family still cared. She never had that.

 

She was jealous of him.

 

Tim held him in such high regard, hero-worshipped him almost (and she’s not sure that had changed even after what Jason did, not that she would ever bring it up with Tim). Bruce, for all that he was stunt with anything remotely to do with emotional expression, was still visibly upset. Not to mention Alfred and his innumerable fond stories of Jason’s past escapades and troublemaking. And _Dick_ , god he was the worst about it. The wounded puppy dog look he gets whenever he gets reminded of something about his ‘little wing’ wasn’t something Stephanie was willing to get into because it spelt endless ice cream tubs and tears in capital,  _bold_ letters.

 

Put concisely, as far as Stephanie could tell, the Bats (those that knew him) cared about Jason a lot, they just sucked at showing it and were too emotionally stupid to sort themselves out when Jason came crashing back into their lives like a speeding train wreck waiting to happen. Except for Alfred. Alfie was truly collateral damage in the wake of Bruce and Dick’s overwhelming emotion constipation.

 

The rest, meaning Cass, Damian and herself, didn’t really like or dislike Jason. By the time they were around, Jason was nothing but a suit sealed in a glass memorial case, an exemplar of what _not_ to do if they valued their lives. The symbol of the consequences of insubordination.

 

When he came back, he made an impression. Powerful, loaded with baggage and something of a madman with a penchant for killing; a Robin turned not-quite murderous psycho.

 

That scared the hell out of Stephanie because regardless of whether or not they knew each other personally, they had one thing in common — Robin. And looking at Jason, out of control, unstable and frankly more than a little deranged, it was frightening, because somewhere at the back of her head, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was a chance she could have ended up like that. She knew Damian wondered too because, for all that he was used to death and murder in the League, Robin meant something new for him. A new life, a new start, free of the darkness he was steeped in while in the League.

 

Jason threw a wrench in the pristine image they had all built for Robin. He was the fallen and he reminded Damian that he could fall right back into darkness too, even as Robin. Jason reminded Damian that Robin doesn’t grant him immunity to the shadows and that just because he was Robin didn’t mean he couldn’t be a killer too. Didn’t mean he couldn’t disappoint his father.

 

Maybe that was why Damian hated Jason and wanted to bring him down with such vengeance. And that was why Stephanie was scared of Jason.

 

History didn’t have to be defined by a certain amount of time passed and experienced, it could be a short amount of time with a lasting impact. By that definition, Lylia was right. Stephanie had history with Jason.

 

But the man she heard through the phone was nothing like the one she knew as Red Hood. He was normal. If Stephanie hadn’t known what she did about him, she’d probably be friends with him because against all expectations, they have a lot in common. And it helped that they both had a grudge against the Big Bat. That, Stephanie was sure, was an acknowledged fact that neither had to explicitly state.

 

Stephanie got off the metro and began moving along the street. She needed to wait for Dick to pick her up since there was no public transport to the exclusive area the Wayne Manor was located. She wondered if she should tell Dick about her contact with Jason. He would want to know.

 

But Jason wouldn’t want him to know. And Stephanie wasn’t sure she could afford to give this piece of information away. Sure Dick liked Jason, cared about him, but he had still been willing to jump the gun and toss Jason into Arkham, and he said nothing in Jason’s defence when Bruce had declared Jason a danger. Hell, he agreed with Bruce that Jason needed to be brought in.

 

Stephanie didn’t know where Dick stood in regards to Jason. He was always openly affectionate to friends and family and she knew he valued all the Bats, so the way he treats Jason wasn’t exactly  _out_ of Dick’s ordinary. But Jason had always been the exception to the status quo of the family, regardless, and she had her suspicions that Jason wasn’t _just_ a brother to Dick. She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t be sure because Dick, for all his flair and jazz, was a remarkable actor. He gave nothing away when he didn’t want to and his reactions to Jason range from ambiguously suggestive to the normal reactions he has for any other family member.

 

And speaking of the devil, Dick’s car pulled up to a stop in front Stephanie and she was greeted with a rolled down window and Dick’s trademark beam. “So, how was the date?”

 

Stephanie almost asked ‘what date?’ until the lies she told started coming back to her. Her face must have done a funny thing because Dick took one look and was immediately sympathetic.

 

“That bad?”

 

Stephanie quickly shook her head as she gone into the shotgun seat. She might need to get away without any of her family houndings after her again. She needed to keep this cover. “No, no, it wasn’t bad. They just didn’t seem that interested in me.”

 

Dick hummed in understanding. “It’s only the first date so don’t give up yet.”

 

“I’m not. I was thinking of having another date soon. Anyway, you coming with us tonight or are you going to gallivant off to the unknown again?”

 

“You do it _one_ time.” He muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes as he drove them through the gates of Wayne Manor.

 

“Yes I’m going with you guys, no I’m not going to _gallivant off_.” Stephanie shrugged at the pointed look he gave her and hopped out of the car.

 

“Just checking pretty boy. Listen, I need a favour.”

 

“Oh no,” Dick eyed her as he got out of the car. “What are you up to?”

 

She pouted. “How mean, why would you ask that?”

 

Dick gave her the most deadpan look she’s ever seen. “The last time you asked me for a favour, the kitchen caught on fire, Bruce got diarrhoea — and he _never_ gets diarrhoea, the guy has a stomach of steel — and all his underwear inexplicably ended up hanging out every window in the manor. I still don’t know how you turned his hair that atrocious shade. I’ve never encountered a shade of green that obnoxious before that day.”

 

“Oh don’t worry, it’s not the colour that’s obnoxious, its the man himself.” Stephanie snickered when Dick glared at her. Then, she summoned her best puppy dog eyes and looked imploringly up at her oldest brother, “C’mon, just a _small_ favour?”

 

Dick narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her but made a ‘go on’ gesture.

 

“I need you to cover for me.”

 

“No.” He said immediately. Stephanie was undeterred.

 

“I won’t tell anyone you were at the police station yesterday.”

 

Dick raised an eyebrow at her. “I work there.”

 

“As Nightwing, at midnight.” She added pointedly.

 

They eyed each other. After a while, Dick sighed, “Fine but you blow anything else up, I want it known that I will not take the fall for it.”

 

“Deal” She nodded happily and practically bounced up to her room in excitement. As she left, she could hear Dick mutter under his breath, “I just know I’m going to regret this.”

 

She smirked.

 

* * *

 

The smog of Lower Gotham moved slowly across the city, filling the lungs of its inhabitants with its familiar presence and scent. The dark, husky smell of smoke and pollution signalled home for so many.

 

The sun had set and the those that inhabit the light of day have gone to sleep, but in the depths of Gotham, shadows were moving. The darkness in Gotham was awakening and they could sense it. Solemn with sinister intent, they stalked the paling city, preparing for the feast.

 

The main cast of players have all assembled and things were already set in motion.

 

The wait was over and the game had begun.

 

In a distance, a cat silently crept onto a tree branch, the scent of its prey deliciously taunting its senses. The predator had been to this nest before and had already taken all but one of the chicks. Now, it was back for the final one.

 

Muscles moving in deadly unison, the cat ghosted forward. It could hear the quiet rustling as the chick moved in the now spacious nest, its small, new form and young chirps drowned out by the ringing silence of the night. It didn’t even have feathers yet.

 

Muscles locked, amber eyes flashing, the cat bared its fangs as it approached.

 

As the cat closer, its silver coat shimmered. It appeared that the chick knew that it was in danger because it began chirping louder, more desperately, but in this dark moment, there was nothing but the cat and the chick and the cat did not hesitate. It knew that like the previous times, no one and nothing will come for this chick. It was alone, it’s story written in lethal, pitch black ink. Isolated and abandoned.

 

Under the waning moonlight, the cat pounced.

 

The chirping stopped, and the ringing got louder.

 

The cat hopped off the tree and slinked back into the shadows that hid it.

 

As it all happened, the stillness remained. Nothing interrupted it.

 

It was too insignificant.

 

Afterall, what’s another missing Robin in the City of Gotham?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought Stephanie would be a good character to provide a more balanced perspective on the events that Jason has so much contention with. I feel that Jason way of viewing things might be too pessimistic at times and this hinders his outlook. Stephanie might be a good counter for that.


	6. Chasing Octagons

Tim eyed the room they had entered in dismay. “We stick out like Oompa-Loompas at Cinderella’s wedding,”

 

Dick snorted. “Really? I couldn't tell.” The first Robin said, waving at his abused outfit; a (formally) nice black, tight fitting shirt and dark skinny jeans. The clothes were, at this point, rumpled and Alfred-disapproved, but it wasn’t the state of the clothes that made them stick out like sore thumbs, no, that was a result of the fact that they _had_ clothes on in the first place.

 

Dick would like to think that he wasn’t a prude by any definition, what with all the omegas he’s dated, along with even more that enjoy throwing themselves at him in various states of undress,  but when he walked into Octagon, he found himself reconsidering his standards.

 

The ‘exclusive’ club located right smack in the middle of crime alley was for the lack of better words, _racey_ . Either this was a strip club and Dick just never got the memo, or this was just how things were in these parts of Gotham because there was not a single being here that had more than their privates covered and even that was contestable. Dick was pretty sure not many would consider wearing a thong that looked like it was made of strings _on both sides_ covering up

 

What’s more, these torrents of practically nude bodies were grinding up against one another with no restraint or finesse and the air was thick with the heady smell of sweat and arousal. The loud, throbbing music, flashing lights and whatever gas they were pumping in the air that made it hard to see or sense anything didn’t help matters.

 

All in all, when told that Octagon was an exclusive club, this had not been what he had imagined.

 

Quite the opposite really.

 

Beside him, Tim made another strangled sound when a scantily clad beta grinded up against him. Truthfully, the only reason Dick could hear him was because he himself was pressed up closer to his brother than he ever wanted to be. The crowd was practically gyrating as a mass and no one was spared. The moment they stepped in, bodies were pushed flushed against them and they had been unable to escape ever since.

 

Tim made a desperate abort gesture as the beta somehow got closer still. Dick nodded, and after a solid 10 minutes of manoeuvring, pushing and a little gyrating, they managed to get to the back of the club, where the toilets were located. 

 

“What are we going to do now? Pretty sure everyone knows we aren’t locals at this point.” Tim said, attempting to smooth down his rumpled shirt. 

 

Dick shrugged. “Strip?” He offered. Tim shot him a dirty look and Dick could only roll his eyes in response. “Look, I think the best thing we can do is party like them. That's the quickest way to fit in." He said as he began tugging his shirt off.

 

“That's also the quickest and dumbest way to get drugged,” Tim hissed, yanking his shirt back down, “they have alcohol here I’ve never even heard of. If we get dosed, we’re done.”

 

A good point, Dick had to admit though he'd never let Tim know. Instead, he pointed out, “We’re already here and we need to to get information. The police couldn’t find anything and with the files gone, they can’t do anything else. It's up to us."

 

“It’s dangerous,” Tim said flatly but it was clear he was starting to crack. They did need information, desperately at that. 

 

“I’ll do it, you watch my back.” Dick said. 

 

Tim pursed his lips. He was clearly reluctant but he ultimately agreed.

 

And that was how Dick found himself in the alley behind the club, feeling like his body was trying to expel his organs out through his mouth. Tim was standing a little away, his face torn between disgust and sympathy as hands hovered somewhere in the middle of reaching out and recoiling. Beside him stood the lithe omega who had gotten them out of the altercation Dick had nearly gotten them all into. She looked completely unbothered by the scene Dick was making, features impassive as she leaned against the dumpster, nibbling on her pack of peanut. It was incredible that she could ingest anything because Tim looked like he was seconds away from joining Dick.

 

“You are too adventurous.” She said, her words heavy with Lower Gotham’s rugged accent, “Even locals know better than to consume that much Red Death. The cap is usually two shots if you want to remember your name. Any more than four shots and this is where it'll end ya.”

 

“This is normal?” Tim asked her, incredulous.

 

“Does it matter? Whoever named it knew what they were talking about.” Dick gasped. He had never felt this way after drinking alcohol, not until the hangover at least. Whatever this drink was made off, its immediate effects were worse than the mother of all hangovers.

 

The unknown omega shrugged, “I don’t know all of what’s in it but I know it has an 80 percent alcohol level.”

 

“I’ve had 80 percent alcohol. I’ve never felt like this after.”

 

“I’m not done speaking,” She said wryly, “The alcohol level is 80 percent and a small dose of _something else_ if you know what I mean.”

 

“Drugs?” Tim guessed, alarmed.

 

The omega raised an eyebrow at him. “I knew you weren’t a local but you must be from farther out than I thought. You’ve never heard of the Red Cornelia?”

 

Tim shook his head as Dick’s stomach twisted. He leaned over to wrench again.

 

“It’s one of the drug trinity,” The omega explained patiently, waving Tim off when he looked like he was about to throw a fit, “Don’t worry, it’s not fatal. It just causes intense highs, amplifies the effects of alcohol and has the after-effects of—” she gestured towards Dick.

 

“And they serve this in clubs here?”

 

The omega gave him an odd look. “Of course, it’s not fatal and it makes people party harder.”

 

“Right. Of course.” Tim said flatly, defeated in the face of her nonchalance. He turned back to Dick instead.

 

“You okay?”

 

Dick didn’t answer but he staggered up and blinked slightly at them.

 

“I’m fine.” He croaked. He then promptly passed out.

 

When he woke up,  he was laying in the back seat of the car. The yellow light from the lamp post was coming through the window. It made his head pound. There was also a constant tap sound that oddly, echoed hollowly in his skull.

 

Then, he noticed that Tim was hovering over him. The tapping had stopped. “We’re back at the manor. You feeling better?”

 

Dick tried to open his mouth to reply, but only managed a strangled gurgle. He closed his eyes because the light was hurting his eyes. The tapping was back and when he opened his eyes, he realised what it was. Tim was slapping him. Dick glared at him.

 

Tim smirked, unrepentant as he moved from above him and out of the car. “Right, we’ll get you some painkillers, then we talk. Come on, pretty boy.”

 

Thirty minutes later, they were both seated in the living room with a warm cup of tea, courtesy of Alfred.

 

“Please tell me we have something, I don't think my body can handle another round of that.” Dick groaned into his tea. He had squirrelled himself to the plush velvet armchair near the fireplace while Tim had claimed the sofa.

 

“We do. Your ability to flirt shamelessly paid off this time.” Tim smirked when the elder glared at him, “Anyway, it’s been confirmed that the deceased omega worked there part time from 11 pm to 6 am, Mondays and Wednesdays. She started working there around a year ago. By all accounts, sweet and easy-going, no known enemies.”

 

“And the club itself? Anything shady that would warrant an ordered hit to silence her?”

 

“You mean other than the fact that they blatantly serve drugs and are therefore obviously part of some sort of drug trade?” Tom said sardonically.

 

Dick rolled his eyes at Tim’s tone. “If they serve it so blatantly, there’s no reason for them to need to kill her for it. Sounds like everyone knows about it. It’s not shady if it's common knowledge.”

 

“I’d beg to differ,” Tim muttered under his breath. Dick ignored him.

 

“Was there anyone suspicious?”

 

“I don’t know if this is suspicious but one of the bartenders immediately moved in the opposite direction of where you were the moment she heard you asking about Steed. She didn't come close after that, but she kept glancing back periodically like she was watching you.”

 

Dick looked at Tim incredulously. “How is that not suspicious?”

 

Tim gave him an unimpressed look. “I don’t know if you know, though I’m pretty sure you do, people tend to get ridiculously shy around you because when you don’t open your mouth, you’re actually pretty hot.”

 

Dick blinked before a smug grin stretched across his face, no doubt the reason Tim was rolling his eyes.

 

“You think I’m hot?” Dick teased.

 

“That’s beside the point.”

 

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Dick cooed, earning himself a venomous glare, “you totally think I’m hot.”

 

“I totally think you’re conveniently missing the part about how that only applies when you don’t open your mouth.” Tim shot back scathingly.

 

“Still.”

 

Tim snorted, “I don’t know why you aren’t a peacock. You should be, considering how much you preen at yourself, you narcissistic ass.”

 

 _“Anyway—_ ” He said loudly when Dick opened his mouth to retort, “the point is, we can’t confirm if it was because she was feeling shy or if she was acting suspiciously. And no, we won’t go back to find out. I am not lugging your behemoth self back to the car again.”

 

Dick frowned. “But it’s our only lead.”

 

“Not really,” Tim said. At Dick questioning look, he shrugged. “Remember that girl that got our asses out of your mess?”

 

Dick cocked his head and tried wrecking his brain for any girl he met throughout the course of the night. He couldn't recall a single one.

 

“Who?”

 

Tim rolled his eyes. “The omega girl? The one that saved us from getting into a fight with that really big alpha with muscles you said ‘looked like overblown life floats’, sound familiar?”

 

“Uh actually, no.” Dick frowned. He remembered nothing of that sort. In fact, now that he was paying attention, he remembered very little beyond their discussion outside the toilet. There were bits and piece but the more he thought about them, the less he remembered.

 

Tim stared at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

 

When Dick made no reply, he spluttered. “You— you really don’t remember? Nothing at all?” Tim said incredulously.

 

Dick growled slightly, frustrated. “No, no I don’t, okay? Nothing. So tell me who the hell you’re talking about and what’s going on.”

 

Tim pursed his lips and assessed him. What he was looking for, Dick wasn't sure but he waited it out. Finally, Tim explained. “You almost got into an altercation with some brawny alpha at the club because you laugh at his muscles and said they looked fake. The omega girl managed to divert it and got us out. You were pretty sick after and was throwing up all over the place. Passed out after. She stayed behind and helped me get you into the car. I managed to get her number so we have our lead.”

 

“I don’t remember any of that,” Dick said blankly.

 

“She mentioned that a drug, something called the Red Cornelia, was in the shots you had.”

 

Dick was sceptical. He did a quick mental run of the drug list he routinely memorised  — something all the bats had to do — and found nothing remotely close to this ‘Red Cornelia’, by name or symptom.

 

“I’ve never heard of such a drug.” He told Tim.

 

“Same. Until she mentioned it, I had no bloody clue anywhere in Gotham served recreational drugs over bars.” Tim said sourly, “But maybe it’s the cause of your memory loss. Carolyn also mentioned two other drugs. She called them the drug trinity of Lower Gotham.”

 

Dick sighed and sunk lower into his seat. His head was beginning to hurt again. “Looks like we have some drugs to test.”

 

Tim nodded grimly. “We’ll need samples.”

 

“Any chance that girl could get us some?”

 

“Possible. I’ll ask. If not, we’ll have to go back to get the drink. From what she’s said, the drug trinity is pretty accessible. All clubs and bars in the Lower use at least one of them in some way or form. Worse case scenario, we head back down there to get drinks to-go.”

 

“Right. Good. Are we done? My head is killing me.” Dick flopped into the sofa cradling his tea as he groaned. His head _was_ killing him. Mother of hangovers indeed.

 

Tim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, go drink your tea. We’ve done our part for the night.”

 

* * *

 

Jason would never admit it out loud but his teammates were right. It felt amazing to shift after such a long time. The weeks prior spent hunting the bow did not afford him time to shift and he missed it dearly.

 

He missed the familiar crack and snap of his bones as they dismantle and reassemble, the way his muscles stretched and contracted to fit his new, more powerful form and the smooth sensation of fur emerging from his skin and his teeth sharpening to lethal edges. Hell, he even missed the weird ‘murp’ sound he automatically made when shifting, a habit that had started out as a joke and ended as an embarrassing (Bizarro says ‘cute’) aspect of his transition into his baser form. It felt good to feel the concrete with the pads of his paws and sense the world around him vividly.

 

He felt alive.

 

Beside him, the hulking form of Bizarro’s bear form laid passive, muscles loose, one huge paw a comfortable weight on Jason’s back, his dark brown fur contrasting sharply with Jason's light ash grey fur.

 

Overhead, Artemis circled them, her large wingspan blocking out any light. But even then, her glossy golden-brown feathers caught light as she moved under the moonlight.

 

The Amazonian was the biggest bird he’s ever seen. Granted, shifters usually had forms somewhat bigger than the natural forms of their animals, but Artemis was a monster of an eagle even by those standards. The natural wingspan of a typical golden eagle was roughly 2 to 2.5 meters, but Artemis boasted a terrifying 3.8-meter wingspan with equally scary talons she was not opposed to using. Not that Jason was speaking from experience. Not at all.

 

Jason pawed the ground, his tail wagging low but excited - a distinct, _let's go._ Bizarro grunted in response and rolled over to paw at Jason's tail, probably trying to trap it. Jason squirmed away and nipped at him lightly.

 

 _Come on_ , _hurry._ He urged.

 

His pointed ears flickered as he heard the change in the air. Looking up, he saw that Artemis had angled her wings down towards them. Her feathers brushed him lightly in silent encouragement before taking off to higher altitudes, out of sight. She would follow them from above.

 

Bizarro had ambled up as well and was yawning lazily, readying himself for the run. Jason’s fur bristled in barely contained anticipation. Once everyone was ready, Jason took of like a shot, knowing that his teammates were not far behind.

 

Jason stretched the limits of his long unused muscles and ravelled in the run. The wind blew his fur sleek against him and the ground disappeared under his paws as he sped through the night.

 

Bizarro ran close beside him, their furs brushing, and Jason could almost feel the bear’s muscles shifting beside him. His sensitive ears could pick up the steady sound of Artemis’ wings beating above them as she followed, like a heartbeat, constant and secure. There are few things better than the feeling of running with pack mates.

 

Jason tampered down on the urge to howl — it attracted too much attention — but he did occasionally let his tongue roll out as he leapt between buildings. His instincts called and he could not resist. Jason led the trio, though he had no real destination in mind. For once and for the time being, they had nowhere to be and nothing to do. They moved leisurely, just enjoying the run and the rhythm of the pack without hurry.

 

Neither Artemis nor Bizarro really needed to shift regularly since, unlike a human’s, their bodies were better adapted to both forms. Being human meant Jason was the only one that needed to shift on a semi-regular basis. And as much as he hated to admit, he was also the limiting factor of the team, being the physically weakest. That meant that Jason set the pace and direction of the run because if either of his other teammates were to set the pace, they would leave him in dust. Which would be… sad.

 

Jason tossed his head in elation when Artemis flew back into view and tried to playfully nip her when she daringly skimmed over the crown of Jason’s head. He missed, of course, but saw that one of her talons had peaked from its tight hold against her body, a playful warning. One Jason paid no mind to as he resumed the run to catch up with Bizarro who was now a building over.

 

They proceeded to spend the younger half of the night in similar fashion, frolicking on the rooftops, chasing tails and submitting to their baser instincts. They were always careful to avoid cameras and other prying eyes but had their fun regardless.

 

However, when midnight rolled around, they had to cease. Duty calls.

 

They trotted back to the roof of their apartment to retrieve the clothes they had left hidden there and to morph back to their humanoid forms.

 

“You guys know where to go, yeah?” Jason said as he slid his holsters into place. Once done, he began checking that all of his equipment was accounted for and functioning. His helmet laid atop the ventilator by his hip.

 

“Of course, we are not children.” Artemis rolled her eyes as her armour assembled on her, because magic.

 

“Could've fooled me,” Jason muttered as he eyed Bizarro, who had not yet mastered the quick-change his original and a certain Amazonian princess were so adept at. His suit was on backwards.

 

Bizarro sulked as he tugged at the cape that was now in front rather than behind. In a blink, he righted his mistake, his cape was on the right side of his body. Though now, it appeared to be inside out.

 

Jason, the asshole he is, laughed.

 

“No child” Bizarro grumbled as he made his third attempt, this time, getting it right. Bizarro shoved him sideways (gently) and Jason toppled over, still laughing.

 

“You're both children,” Artemis said exasperatedly as she pulled a still laughing Jason to a stand. “Cease, Little One. Your screeches bring my ears no joy. The sooner you leave for your rendezvous with the she-bat, the better for my health.”

 

“Lies.” Jason sang as he made his way towards his helmet. He heard Artemis huff in amusement.

 

“Just go.” She said, long-suffering.

 

Jason rolled his eyes but did as told. With a quick goodbye and a promise to return safely, they each departed for their destinations. Jason made his way to the docks.

 

He was late and knew that if the blondie was anything like the rest of the clan, she’d throw a hissy fit at him for it. Though as it stands, he didn't care. So it took him nearly another 15 minutes of leisure grappling, if that was even a thing, to get to their designated meeting point.

 

When he got there, Stephanie was nowhere in sight.

 

Eyebrows raised, Jason did a quick sweep of the area and found that, sure enough, there was no sign of bright yellow in the vicinity. He caught no indication of her presence from the scent of the area either. Jason grappled onto and settled himself on one of the large shipping containers. He waited.

 

10 minutes with no sign of her and Jason was just about ready to entertain the idea that she had either forgotten, stood him up or ran into trouble when he caught her scent, followed by the distant sound of her grappling hook latching on concrete. His senses were duller in his human form but had it not been, Jason was sure he would hear the air shifting as she swung her way towards him.

 

When she landed beside him, he said a bland, “You're late.”

 

She shrugged sheepishly, not looking particularly sorry. “It’s hard work, shaking them off, Cass likes to hover.”

 

Jason scoffed a laugh. Hard to believe he thought she would be snappy because _he_ was late.

 

Rolling his eye, he waved for her to follow before hopping off the container. “Come on, let me do some checks around here. We can talk while I do.” He said as he started walking away without waiting for her reply.

 

She grumbled but followed. Jason smirked.

 

They began moving between ship containers. As they walked, Jason watched the ground for any sign of staining. He had given the whole situation some thought and figured that if he had been trying to escape a pack of jackals, he'd run for cover. These containers were about the biggest cover to be had in the area. It wasn't a long shot to think a murder-kidnap would happen between these giant metal tanks and no one saw.

 

“What are we doing here?” Stephanie followed his example and looked at the ground, though it was pretty obvious she had absolutely no idea what she was looking for.

 

“Bloodstains.” He replied without looking at her, eyes on the ground, searching.

 

“Bloodstains?” Stephanie’s brows furrowed though she didn’t stop walking, ”Why would there be bloodstains here?” She asked.

 

Jason sighed. It was annoying to have to keep explaining the same thing over and over again to different people. But, the entire reason he had her here was to work on the case with him. Three heads were better than two. It wouldn’t serve him any benefit to withhold information from her just because it was ‘annoying to keep explaining’, so personal irritation aside, Jason made quick work of explaining the situation.

 

By the end of it, Stephanie had her lips pursed in contemplation.

 

“So you’re telling, that there are three missing omegas instead of two, and the reason you’re even working on this case, to begin with, is because of this unofficially reported case.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And now we’re looking for the — what? The corpse? — of this person. And _all_ of this, was reported to you by the _same exact person_ ?”

 

“Yes.” Jason repeated with a tad more impatience, not seeing where she was going with her inane questioning. “Your point?”

 

“You’ve never, I don’t know,” She waved her hands as if to make a point, though Jason couldn't tell what. “You've never considered how weird it is that your source, who pulled you into this case in the first place, is now sending you to specific locations to find the site of an incident that no one but they know happened?”

 

Jason stopped walking. He could feel anger surge within him at the implicit accusation. He tampered down on it the best he could, fists clenched and kept reminding himself that Stephanie was here to help, she was doing her job, but he couldn't quite keep the anger from his voice when he spoke. It came out cold. “What are you trying to say?”

 

If Stephanie could sense the ice in his tone, she gave no indication. Steadily, she said, “It’s suspicious. Your source is too conveniently informed. That’s what I think.”

 

“You think it’s a lie? The third missing person. You think my source is lying to me? ” Jason demanded.

 

Stephanie watched him silently for a moment, then replied with a surprisingly blunt, “Yeah.”

 

Jason shook his head, fists clenching tighter. “I trust the source and I’ve met the missing person before. He’s real.” He insisted.

 

Stephanie was unconvinced. She pursed her lips. “I still think we should at lea—”

 

“He’s real.” Jason snapped, cutting her off. “My source has no reason to lie to me.” To say that Carolyn would betray or lie to him was absurd. He knew Carolyn like the back of his own hand. No, Stephanie was wrong about her suspicion. It wasn’t possible.

 

Stephanie opened her mouth to retaliate but Jason had little care for it. He turned away, dismissing the conversation as he resumed the search of the area. He brushed past her without bothering to listen. Stephanie’s mouth clicked shut.

 

They moved from the containers and were making their way through the transition area where the numerous towering equipment used to move the heavy containers were located. They searched in a silence that was just on the wayside of tense and that was fine by Jason. He was still trying to calm the anger that so often felt like a separate entity within him and didn’t really care to hear anything more from the blonde that could anger him further.

 

Their search ended some 40 minutes later in absolute silence and they were back on top of a shipping container. Only then did Stephanie speak. “There’s nothing here.”

 

“Seems like it.” He conceded with little grace, knowing what she was trying to hint at. There's nothing here and maybe nothing anywhere because this was all made up. Absurd. “My teammates are checking the other major water presences in Gotham. I’ll update you if they find anything.”

 

“Sure.” She said neutrally. She didn’t sound doubtful, but it was clear she wasn’t expecting there to be anything.

 

They left the docks and headed back towards the city's centre.

 

“Where are you checking?” Stephanie asked after another bout of silence.

 

Jason glanced at her before shrugging a reply. “Artemis is checking the Gotham’s water plant and storage facilities. Bizarro’s checking all the large lakes and natural water bodies. I checked the other dock this afternoon. Nothing.”

 

Stephanie thought for a moment. “Is anyone checking the sewers?”

 

“That’s the last resort. It’s a lot of surface area to cover so we didn’t want to search there unless we know we have to.”

 

Stephanie nodded in understanding. “And by we, you mean you and your teammates, the two metas?”

 

“That,” He paused, “and the Oracle.” He was deliberately casual and only slightly smug with his revelation. Gloriously, he got exactly the reaction he wanted.

 

Stephanie quite literally almost fell over the edge of the building they were on to whipped around to gape at him. “What?” She squawked.

 

“You heard me.”

 

“The Oracle?” Stephanie demanded. “Since when?”

 

Then, before Jason could reply, Stephanie’s eyes widened further as she came to multiple realisations all at once. “Oh my god, that’s why you can have your metas zipping around and still not get caught.” Now, she sounded equal parts incensed, accusing and admiring. Jason laughed.

 

Stephanie shook her head in disbelief. “How?”

 

“It's natural charm, darling.” He said, saccharine sweet.

 

“Oh, of course, how dare I ask.” Stephanie rolled her eyes. “ _Darling_.”

 

Jason gave a mock sniff of derision. “Exactly.”

 

Stephanie laughed and the earlier tension dissipated, shockingly easy. “Oh cut your crap. Come on, let’s get on with the main event of the night.” She said, eyes gleaming. There was no need to say what the event in question entailed.

 

Jason smirked.

 

* * *

 

Stephanie woke up from her barely 4 hours of sleep to the sound of the Demon Child screeching bloody murder the hallways and she had a crystal clear idea what it was about.

 

She smirked as she got up.

 

Today was starting out splendidly.

 

10 minutes later and she was down in the dining hall with the rest of the clan. Bruce stood the head of the table staring them all down, arms crossed and looming. Beside him, Damian has never looked more like his son. Batman and Robin glowered at the rest of the inhabitants in the room, but all anyone could do was attempt to keep a straight face because they knew that overhead, what was once a bat signal, was now a giant dick signal.

 

Yet, the funniest thing was not the prank itself. No, it was what the tabloid papers were saying about it. Case in point, sitting in the middle of them all, was a tabloid boasting a giant headline: “Batman’s true nature revealed by anonymous prank: Gotham’s Bat Signal now a giant penis.”

 

Really, where was the lie?

 

“Would anyone like to explain?” Bruce said, crossing his arms over his chest. Was he twitching? Stephanie squinted at him. No one said a word.

 

“Well?”

 

“I think…” Tim spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention. He paused and met everyone’s eyes one at a time before slowly saying, “It was all _very_ well thought out.”

 

“I hundred percent agree,” Stephanie said immediately, enthusiastically slamming her palm down against the table like a gavel. She got a caustic glare from the child demon that she was conveniently blind to.

 

Cass nodded beside her and Stephanie determined that Bruce was definitely twitching.

 

Damian growled at them and stomped his foot. He turned to their eldest brother who sat on the furthest side, closest to the door, holding a mug of what was probably tea. Dick’s head was resting face-first on the table, not even bothering to pretend like he's looking at anyone or listening.

 

“Grayson,” Damian said, “surely you cannot condone this.”

 

Dick lifted his head and wow, he looked worse with his face visible. Stephanie never thought there'd be a day Dick’s face actually took away from his look. He didn't seem to give a damn though. He glanced at his littlest brother, shrugged and placed his head back down on the table. “Tim’s not wrong.” He said, words mumbled to the table.

 

Stephanie was not ashamed to say that she enjoyed the furious squeak Damian made at his favourite brother’s betrayal. As far as she could tell, Dick was nursing one hell of a hangover from the mission he and Tim had gone on the night before, coincidentally while Jason and her were up to no-good, and in his current state, Stephanie dare say Dick Grayson was in pain and gave no fucks about other people’s hurt sentiments. It was too bad for Damian. It really was.

 

Bruce stared at them all for a while longer, trying to make them break with his bat stare, but at this point, everyone was too used to it to be bothered. When he got nothing outside of boredom out of his children, Bruce pitched the bridge of his nose and gave a heavy sigh. “I don't suppose _any_ of you happen to know how the culprit managed to bypass the fingerprint and retina scanners to do this?”

 

Practically in unison, everyone blinked innocently at him and shrugged.

 

It was in such moments that Stephanie loved her siblings the most because there was no doubt in her mind that Cass knows — she was standing right beside her after all — and Tim suspects. Dick… maybe not but either way, they all stood with her in solidarity, knowing or unknowingly.

 

Bruce eyed them for a few heartbeats. When still no one faltered, he closed his eyes and sat down, maybe a little heavier than he usually would. “Alfred, breakfast please.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose as though he could physically rub out the frustrations of parenthood. Stephanie watched on with great amusement. 

 

Just like that, the subject was dropped. Everyone took their seats and breakfast began.

 

Under the table, Cass bumped her knees with Stephanie's in silent reproach. In response, Stephanie blinked widely (innocently) and just passed her the butter roll basket.

 

“Butter roll?” Stephanie asked. _I'm sorry, what are you talking about?_

 

Cass rolled her eyes but took a roll.

 

“Thank you.” She said. _Only this time, you're off the hook._

 

Stephanie smiled, satisfied, and turned to pass the basket of warm rolls to Tim as she lifted her mug of juice to hide the smile.

 

He took one with a wry, knowing look.

 

Behind her mug, she gave him a wink.

 

Ah, nothing felt better than getting away with things — except maybe getting free stuff — but she digressed.

 

Setting down the basket, she slipped out her phone and sent Jason a photo of Bruce’s face, captured upon his realisation of what his signal was projecting into the dark clouds.

 

“Alfred, remind me to get it changed back. And to tell Gordon there’s no need to investigate the perpetrator. I think someone here has an idea and simply wishes to keep secrets from the rest of the family.” Bruce grumbled from the head of the table, glaring at them. It sounded oddly petulant from him and Stephanie couldn't help but think that maybe he was more butt-hurt over the prank than she thought. She pulled out her phone again and opened her chat with Jason.

 

“Of course, sir. Should I do so after lunch?” The butler stared down at Bruce.

 

Bruce sighed, “I told you, I won't be back for lunch. I promised an interview.”

 

Without batting an eye, Alfred said, “It would be delightful to have Master Kent here once more. It has been rather long since his last visit.”

 

Across her, Damian made a noise of horror. Everyone else exchanged suggestive looks, knowing what the butler was calling Bruce out on. Stephanie was grateful she had her phone’s microphone fixed last week.

 

“Alfred.” Bruce said, his voice pinched.

 

“Unless Sir has a reason for insisting to dine outside even though I've already prepared the portions. Secrets, as you say, are not conducive to keep from family.” Alfred arched a brow and Bruce seemed to sink slightly into his seat.

 

Stephanie bit her lips to stop from laughing. Bruce looked positively mortified, or as much as he can be.

 

Bruce looked imploringly at the butler. “It's not that I don't want to eat here. I have a board meeting right before the interview, it's simply not feasible to travel back. Surely you understand.”

 

“Indeed.” The butler said archly, “As per my understanding, farces are rarely feasible.”

 

Stephanie took her juice and took a giant swing to stop herself from laughing. She could see Tim silently reach over, grab another butter roll from the basket then proceeded to stuff entire damned thing into his mouth, shoulders shaking. Even Cass had her lips pressed together, though to be fair, that was the only giveaway to her amusement.

 

Bruce made a face and glanced back at the butler standing by his shoulder. “ _Alright_ ," He gave in reluctantly, "I'll bring him over for lunch.”

 

Alfred’s expression didn't change. “I trust feasibility will not be an issue?”

 

Bruce grimaced and stared down at his eggs. “No, of course not.”

 

“Very good, sir.” Alfred nodded, “I shall make preparations immediately. I advise you to depart soon, we wouldn't want you to run late lest it pushes _other_ plans back.”

 

Without so much as a backwards glance, Alfred then left for the kitchen. The whole table was silent in the wake of the butler’s departure though not from the lack of things to say. Quite the opposite, actually.

 

Damian broke first.

 

“That _alien,_ father? Surely you can do better.” He sniffed derisively. Stephanie looked up to see him sip his orange juice like it was freaking wine. He had his nose in the air too, snooty bastard. And hilariously, Bruce, for all his composure, looked like he wanted to slam his face into the mahogany table. It didn't help that the tabloid on the table had, in the tiniest of prints that no one at the table missed, Clark Kent’s name on it.

 

Needless to say, Stephanie didn't stop smiling for the rest of breakfast.  

 

*

 

Alone again, up in her room, Stephanie pulled out her laptop. She needed to run some searches. Regardless of what Jason said, she didn't trust his source. She generally lived by an ‘if it's too good to be true, it probably isn't’ approach to life. And Jason's source was exactly that.

 

She had managed to get the name of the source from him while they were out celebrating the successful execution of their grand plan. So now, she was going to run searches on her.

 

She typed in the name ‘Carolyn Gomez’ into the hacked-in database of the GCP. A few seconds later. All official documents under the name popped up on her screen. There was only one Carolyn Gomez in all of Gotham, but the server found nothing much about her. There were some sparse documents, birth certificate, tax history, lease documents and the like. They all have things in common: they were all mundane, things that don’t say much about an individual, not of a criminal nature at least and they were things everyone had.

 

They were all easily forged.

 

A check told her that yes, some of the documents, including the birth certificate, was forged. But that didn't say much when Gomez’s background came into question. Lower Gothamites dislike officialising anything more than the bare minimum. Rightfully so, considering how easily Stephanie was now pulling records out. It meant that anyone, with the right resources — criminals included — could do the same. For Lower Gothamite, that could be fatal. So,  they weren't wrong to give the officials the barest minimum and if possible, fakes.

 

But it made things hard when the end goal was to find out if this person was real because when everyone does it, outliers are harder to identify.

 

Long story short, forged documents or no, nothing could tell her if Carolyn Gomez was real or not.

 

Stephanie quickly deleted Gomez’s name and typed in Viktor Korkunov. She got the same results. Sparse documents, all easily forged and have no real substance.

 

She opened another server. This time, it was one installed on the Bat Computer. It could trace by association so anything to do with the Gomez or Korkunov — even their aliases. The only downside: for a super advanced computer search system, it was ridiculously slow, not unlike a dinosaur. And because Stephanie was stubborn and occasionally stupid (she could admit that much), she keyed in their names anyway and hoped that maybe _this time_ she would not see the goddamned lollipop swirl that told her the server would take a million years to load the results.

 

Of course she saw the damn lollipop.

 

Stephanie pursed her lips and flopped on her bed, her laptop still running. It seemed that Jason’s source and their missing person were more elusive than expected. She would need to do more extensive research on them, possibly even go undercover. She might even need to pull Barbara into it all, though it was possible that the red-headed omega had already done get own investigation.

 

Stephanie blinked and sat up.

 

Right. Barbara.

 

Why didn't she think of that?

 

Of course Barbara would have investigated them, it was her job for goodness sake, and even if Stephanie stilled marvelled over the fact that Jason managed to bring in the Oracle, she'd use all the help she could get.

 

Flipping her laptop close,  she quickly grabbed her phone and dialled for the Oracle. Five rings in and she was through.

 

“Hello?” The drowsy, sleep-deprived voice of the redhead came through.

 

“Hey Babs, sorry for bothering you so, um,” Stephanie glanced at the blinking one past half of her clock, “early.”

 

She got a muffled grumble in response that meant Barbara had probably borrowed back into her sheets.

 

“Right, um I was wondering if you found anything on Carolyn Gomez, Jason’s source? I couldn't find anything on her and she's too suspicious so…” She trailed off shrugging, “I was wondering if you have something?”

 

There was another muffled grumble than Barbara’s groggy voice came back on. “I didn't have time to search on her. It'd be too suspicious because my servers are connected to the main one Bruce uses. I currently,” she yawned, “have them running tests on the samples from the crime scene.” Another yawn. “The damn thing’s stupid slow too so it'll be awhile before I can do some background on her, even if I wanted to.”

 

Stephanie’s face fell in disappointment. “Oh, okay, I'll run it then. Thanks.”

 

Barbara made some indistinct noises before hanging up.

 

Stephanie sighed. So that was a bust.

 

She opened her computer again and oh look, the lollipop was still there. Wonderful. And she had school work to do which just made everything worse.

 

Stephanie hid the search server tab and opened a new one, this time a blank document her thesis was going to be on, as she did so, her phone buzzed.

 

It was a text, from Jason. A stream of laughing emojis followed by an incredulous, ‘ _Bruce and Superman?! Since when?!_ ’

 

 _It’s pretty new actually._ She replied, amused. The initial reactions of anyone about the development were pretty much like the same — incredulous shock. Which, said a lot.

 

_I wasn't sure he could woo an eggplant. Even Alfred was unimpressed the first time he tried for Selina._

 

Stephanie raised an eyebrow. _Kyle?_

 

_Hell yeah. Remind me to tell you about that by the way, though it’s pretty obvious he failed._

 

_That’s why it’s funny. What are you doing now?_

 

_Chilling. The team’s back. They didn’t find anything, so now we’re waiting for nightfall to go check out the sewers._

 

_Want me to come?_

 

_Nah, just keep the Bats away. Babs told me Dick's on to her about being in contact with me. We’ll need you to keep him away since they won’t suspect you._

 

_You forget, that I have a terrifying Cass here that knows everything._

 

_I trust in your abilities to fool her._

 

Stephanie smiled. _I hate you._

 

_You wish you do. But anyway, any updates on your part?_

 

_Dick and Tim went to Lower Gotham. They went to investigate the club the victim used to work at. Some club called Octagon. Dick got knocked out by Red Cornelia and can’t remember anything about the night. They managed to get a lead. Some omega girl that got their asses out of fire. They think Dick's memory loss has something to do with the drug. They're planning to run some tests._

 

_What girl? Sounds shady. Also, are you not going to tell them that Dickiebird probably overdosed on the drug and that usually, memory loss doesn't happen? They're going to be wasting their time on a dead end._

 

 _Tim didn’t have time to tell me, he was rushing to class. He said he’d tell me later. Or if he forgets, I’ll check the server for the mission report. Of course, I'm not going to tell them. That would entail explaining how_ I  _knew. Let them run into a wall now and then, it's good for the ego._

 

_Lmao, good point. Did you know Bab’s is running tests on the victim?_

 

_Yeah, she told me._

 

_Okay, then that’s all the updates I have. TTYL._

 

Stephanie tossed her phone away and frowned. She lied. Tim did tell her the name of his lead. She just didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Jason that Tim and Dick’s lead happen to share the same name as his source, Carolyn. It would implicate too much, especially with their not-really-argument still fresh in her mind.

 

It was honestly too much of a coincidence, but Stephanie saw enough of Jason’s defensive anger to know to be careful about throwing around her suspicions of his friends to him. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t pursue those suspicions though. Carolyn was a name that was popping up in too many unsavoury places for Stephanie’s liking and she wanted to know why.  

 

It seemed everyone was busy doing their own investigations: Dick, Tim and the rest of the Bats were working on the case proper, trying to solve the homicide and investigate the only other missing person they know of — Alexander Moller, — Barbara was running scans on the victim while helping Jason find his missing Korkunov, the Outlaws were investigating the report from Jason’s source about the alleged kidnap and Stephanie herself was digging on Jason’s source, one Carolyn Gomez that seemed to be popping up all over the place and the disappeared Viktor Korkunov, their mysteriously missing omega male.

 

This whole case was ridiculously convoluted and weird. Somehow everything was connected, Stephanie was sure, but with so many loose ends to tie and meet, it was hard to find a head or a tail about it.

 

Male omegas were so, _so_ rare. To have three missing, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Everyone knew that.

 

But why? And how?

 

There were too many questions and simply not enough answers — Not unlike her blank document.

 

But until her server came through, she couldn't get her answers.

 

Hours later, when all the reports from the previous night were in the database, her phone buzzed with another message. From Barbara this time.  

 

_Update me what you find about them. You're right, it's too suspicious._

 

No context was given, but none was needed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is starting to roll faster and with so many perspectives, things might be hard to keep track of but it's key to remember that they are all happening at the same time, just with different people doing it. That being said, if it get's too convoluted or hard to understand, please feedback to me so I can improve :) 
> 
> Also, while everything seems to happen quite some time apart (I actually don't know if this is the case, I hope not, but just in case), know that they all happen either simultaneously, or close. So the time span for these 6 chapters is no more than 3 to 4 days. The timing isn't exact since I'd like to leave that up to you guys, but know that they happen pretty close. 
> 
> Bruce/ Clark is so minor it doesn't even exist in the plot so don't pay it too much attention. It's really nothing.


	7. Circle In

Jason snarled as he paced the apartment, anxiety clawing its way up his throat, making him want to scream.

 

Barbara had called to inform him that another male omega had gone missing. Anonymously reported, this time it was a homeless boy, a teenager that was part of a small-time local gang. Jackson Vernon, Babs had said the name solemnly as she transferred the data over to him and a photo of a young boy barely on the cusp of puberty, long-limbed and freckled with a mop of curly dark hair and striking blue eyes had popped up on his screen. Jason could not help but stare at the face of the boy, barely able to register a word the tigress said as his mind pretty much grounded to a halt. Words like _‘estranged parent’_ , _‘drug abuse’_ and _‘homeless’_ rattled uselessly in his head, no comprehension to be had because what were the chances? _What were the chances?_

 

If he had any doubts this whole thing was directed at him, they were gone, everything sealed and locked when Barbara had, with more hesitation than he had ever heard in her voice, said, _“And Jason? He’s a full shifting robin. The only full shifter in the line-up as far as we know.”_

 

A robin. Of course.

 

Didn’t everything boil down to that?

 

Years apart from the moniker and still, it haunted him. From beginning to end, guilt to isolation, and now, just when he had managed to dredge together the remnants of his broken identity and leave behind Robin to be Jason again, it comes back. It made him want to throw up.

 

This was getting out of hand. Whoever it was and whatever they were playing at, they got what they set out for — his attention. He was back in Gotham, running around and no doubt playing into whatever stupid game they had set up for him.

 

Lower Gotham was in a frenzy and the hysteria would only get worse with every missing person and with every police involvement. His investigations were getting nowhere and the mental strain of the entire situation, being in Gotham, Viktor, the missing omegas, running from the Bats, the Bow, his teammates’ declining health; it was all wearing him out.

 

“Little one,”

 

Jason’s head snapped up to where his Amazonian teammate was leaning against the doorframe to her room. She was dressed in sweatpants and one of his old shirts, her long red hair twisted into a bun at top of her head. The fresh creases on her shirt told him she had just woken up.

 

“Did I wake you? Sorry.”

 

Artemis said nothing in response, watching him cooly from the doorway with something indecipherable but knowing in her eyes. Then, before he could react, she strode forward in two quick steps, plucked him off the ground and over her shoulders, and proceeded to march into her room. On a normal day, he might have laughed it off.

 

Today, he growled furiously at her, twisting and turning in an attempt to loosen her grip and escape. It didn’t work. Artemis held fast, easily dodging swinging elbows and kicking legs, and it wasn’t long before Jason found himself bouncing from the impact of being thrown onto her bed.

 

“Sleep.” She ordered, yanking her blanket from under him and throwing it over his body. Jason sputtered as he sat up only to be covered by the duvet.

 

“I’m not a child.” He snapped in irritation, feeling frustration bubble under his skin. He didn’t want sleep, he didn’t to be taken care of. No, he needed answers. He needed to get to the bottom of the damn case and leave this hell-hole behind because Gotham and more importantly, its inhabitants, were still fresh and raw and he was not prepared to handle such prolonged exposure.

 

For once, Artemis made no comment. She simply gave him another knowing look and crawled into bed with him, settling down beside him and pulling out a book in a language he did not understand.

 

“Sleep,” She repeated, softly this time as she pushed him down gently.

 

Jason thought of resisting, of ignoring her and just climbing out the window to the outside and grappling away, but he didn’t because he was tired. Deflating Jason allowed himself to be pushed down, pulling the duvet above him as he curled up beside Artemis.

 

For a while, the room was filling with nothing but the sounds of even breathing and pages of the book turning, then Jason said, in an almost small voice, “There’s another one missing.”

 

“I know,” Artemis said without looking up from her book.

 

When Jason looked up at her in surprise, Artemis waved a casual hand to a phone Jason did not recognise, sitting on her nightstand.

 

Jason looked back at her in alarm. “Where did yo—”

 

“Your Oracle sent the information.”

 

Jason felt his mouth form an ‘o’. He flopped his head back onto the pillow, pressing his forehead to Artemis’ hip. So she knew.

 

“He looks like a younger me.” Jason mumbled to her, “His story could’ve been mine, Arty, that could have been me if I hadn’t, by some dumb luck, stolen from the right car.”

 

Long finger slipped into his hair, combing it gently as Artemis said, “But it isn’t you. Fate makes no mistakes.”

 

“Neither does this psycho. The victim’s a robin this time, a fucking Robin. They’re messing with me.”

 

“They are.” Artemis agreed.

 

“It might be working.”

 

“Not if you don’t let it.”

 

“That’s easier said than done,” Jason grumbled against her thigh, feeling the pull of sleep.

 

“Then what are you going to do about it?” Artemis was never one to dwindle around and that was what Jason liked about her, even if he hated it now.

 

He left the question hanging between them for a while, scrambling for his now almost sluggish thoughts, unsure how of to answer because what could he do?

 

After some deliberation, he slowly said, “We proceed as we are now. Tonight, we check the sewer systems and go from there. Barbara sent me information about what the Bats found on Amelia Steed and Alexander Moller but there isn’t much since its still in progress. They’re too slow. We’ll need to it ourselves too.”

 

“Okay,” Artemis gently scraped her nails through his scalp, making him relax further, “okay, so nothing changes.” There’s nothing to change, she doesn’t say.

 

“Sleep, I will wake you come sunset.”

 

Jason didn’t reply. His eyes were already slipping shut.

 

*

 

Jason was young again but this wasn't the usual dreams of childhood he has had for the previous days. This was different. 

 

A nightmare, he thought belatedly as he felt familiar dread spread through his body.

 

Carolyn was looking at him, eyes wild, but they all knew it was too late now. Far too late.

 

Swallowing, she turned back to the old woman.

 

“What are the rules?”

 

“Simple,” The lady said pleasantly, “If you live, you play. If you die, you lose.”

 

“So, how do we win?” Jason asked tentatively.

 

The woman laughed like Jason had said a very funny joke. “You don’t _win_ the game. You never win, you just play. And play, and play, and play, until you lose.” She looked at him and as their eyes met, a paralysing fear struck him as he watched her mouth curl into the ugliest smile imaginable.

 

“So, what do you say? Do you want to play?”

 

* * *

 

Dick could feel his eyes glazing over as he stared at the information on the computer. He couldn’t be sure, but Alexander Moller just might lead the most _boring_ life a person could lead. He could feel his brain melting just trying to sludge through the intel.

 

Not for the first time, Dick regretted his decision to take the fall back at Octagon.

 

Due to him being completely indisposed with a killer hangover, Dick had not been mission ready so Red Robin had gone out to scout and retrieve intel on Moller on his own. Which meant that it was only fair that, now that he was better, Dick had to analyse the data Tim had collected. On his own.

 

Tim had found nothing remotely interesting in his home and quick questions to the less than forthcoming neighbours had revealed little of interest. Moller was by all accounts a studious boy with a doting mother that was now very distraught.

 

Tim was certain there was more than they were unwilling to tell him.

 

His report cited low-level hostility detected from the residents from the beginning as well as multiple cameras in the area, not within Barbara’s jurisdiction because Tim had already been briefed on the locations of all of her cameras, following him as he moved through town. He was being watched, not just by unseen personnel, but by the people he passed by on the streets. There seemed to be a unanimous solidarity agreed upon amongst the inhabitants that restricted the information he was able to gather because he did not manage to dig up much.

 

Regardless, he tried his best, even attempting to contact Carolyn but to no avail. In the end, all the information Tim had gotten were what Dick would imagine Clark gathering for a fluff piece if he ever decided to delve into those; painstakingly generic, not at all helpful and boring to boot.

 

Hence, his current predicament. Dick stared unseeingly at the reports for a while longer before deciding, fuck it, he was moving on. No use beating the dead horse because the dead horse was dead and the obvious was obvious.

 

He swivelled the chair away from the computer screen to the secondary computer monitoring the other Bat’s activities. Tim, Damian and Steph were at school so nothing interesting there. Cass was skulking around Lower Gotham, trying to gather more information on Steed. Being the only female missing omega, and the only one currently dead, she was the primary interest. But based on Cass’ reports from last night, she was as out of luck as Tim was, being only marginally better because she could read people better. Oddly enough, it didn’t seem enough to pry the Lower Gothamites away from their secrets.

 

Bruce was attending another meeting with the board of Directors, his lunch with Clark long over, though it definitely went well… not that any — or better yet, all — of the Bat-kids had been spying from various well-concealed vantage points around the manor. Not that Alfred himself had been videotaping everything with a camera hidden within the centrepiece and had proceeded to proudly filed the tape under ‘momentous events’.

 

Nope, not at all.

 

Anyway, everyone who could be accounted for was accounted for, so Dick moved on to the vials that Tim had managed to get.

 

There were four vials in total, each of them labelled with the name of the drink Tim managed to smuggle away from the Lower Gotham clubs: Red Death, Green Hysteria, Purple Madness, Cobalt Poison.

 

None of the names meant a thing to Dick other than probable hangovers that he was not about to chance with. The drinks were coloured as they were named though oddly enough, the colours of the drinks were trippy fluorescent shades that were better suited for those nineties lava lamps or potions in video games than real beverages. And… hopefully, the second halves of the names did not describe the effects of the drinks because woah, death, hysteria, madness and poison made the hangover he got off with sound tame.

 

Dick stared at the drinks. He already had tests running but the problem lied in the fact that while the Batcomputer could analyse the chemical compounds present within the drinks, it could not identify the actual effects of the compounds, meaning if none of the bats had prior knowledge to the compounds present within the drinks or drugs, they would be clueless.

 

No one was eager to personally try the drinks, not after seeing the aftermath on Dick but they might not have a choice if they have no other way to observe the effects of the chemicals. For now, that was not what they were doing. Bruce insisted that they wait until after the test results, which, no one disagreed because again, no one was looking to get a monster hangover.

 

But that left him little to do now other than go back to Tim’s reports on Alexander Moller, and Dick really wasn’t ready for another mind-numbing session of reading about how Moller never failed to go to the library to study every other weekend or how he had an unusual quirk of chugging Gatorade before starting any assignment, even if he didn’t need to stay up for it. Like he said, boring stuff. Though at this rate, he might have to do it anyway, for lack of better things to do. Besides, Bruce and Tim would skin him if they found out he had been slacking off the whole day. There was only so long the excuse of nursing a hangover could last.

 

A click from behind drew his attention away from his contemplations and indicated that someone had entered the Bat Cave. Looking up, Dick saw Cass walking down the stairs.

 

“Hey,” He called.

 

Cass twitched slightly and looked up at him in surprise. “Didn’t know you, here.”

 

Dick shrugged, leaning his head back as he swivelled his chair this way and that. “Yeah well, Tim did his part so now it’s my turn.” He gestured to the documents on the screen of the main server.

 

Cass approached him, making an amused sound as she scanned through the document. She nodded at him in understanding. “Boring?” She asked.

 

Dick made disgruntled sounds knowing that she knew the answer to that. Instead, he said, “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be searching up on Steed.”

 

She nodded and held up a thumb drive, plugging it into the computer. A few more files popped up and she clicked on them to reveal mission reports. “Finished. Boring too.”

 

“Oh great.” Dick groaned.

 

“Check body?”

 

“Still dead.” He said. When Cass gave him a flat look, he shrugged. “It’s true.” 

 

They’ve all been briefed on the autopsy and they all knew there was nothing to be found. It would hardly make sense for them to get worked up over some alcohol outside her mouth. People were weird.

 

“Markings?”

 

“If you mean some unusually ugly tattoos than yeah. She has this huge black circle on her back like a tramp stamp though it makes no aesthetic sense and just looks like a giant mole, and don’t get me started on the really stupid looking butterfly on her wrist —”

 

“Dick,” Cass said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes.

 

“You asked.” He shrugged.

 

“I regret.” She grumbled as she turned away. “Have fun. I will nap.” She waved at the screen cheerfully as she started walking back to the stairs.

 

“Wait, aren’t you going to help?” Dick protested.

 

Cass just looked at him and giggled before wordlessly disappearing up the stairs to the manor, leaving him once again alone but now, with twice the amount of boring shit to muck through. Splendid. Just, splendid.

 

Dick peeked back at the documents and groaned again, feeling the urge to slam his face against the keyboard in front of him increase. A quick glance at the clock told him that he had another few hours at most to analyse and sift through the important bits before the pre-patrol briefing he’d had to spearhead tonight.

 

Sometimes, he hated his job.

 

Alas, them’s the works. He had to do what he needed to do and if it's painstakingly going through the deplorably uninteresting life-story of one Alexander Moller and Amelia Steed, so be it.

 

With this pained acceptance of his fate, Dick turned back to the screen and began scrolling.

 

* * *

 

Cassandra glanced at her father as he stood behind the Oracle. They were talking in hushed voices but that did not bother her. She could lip read very well. It came naturally, the way she could understand them even when the room was filled with a stagnant but comfortingly constant hum from the computer. She didn’t do it intentionally, but she watched, and because she watched, she understood.

 

They were arguing. Hushed but harsh. Father was angry and Barbara was determined, and despite towering over her as he stood and she sat in her wheelchair, their standing was equal because their emotional intensity was so.

 

_You’re hiding him from us._

 

_I have no idea what you’re talking about._

 

_The Bat system caught footage of the clone flying to and from the central park last night. The files were deleted from your system. I tracked it._

 

_Are you accusing me of deliberately tampering with records?_

 

_Yes._

 

Cassandra’s eyes tracked the stiffness in their posture and the way they stared each other down. The look on Barbara’s face, cast partially in the cold blue light of her computer, was withering and Bruce matched her ferocity.

 

_Do you have something substantial to say or are you just here to point fingers?_

 

_Where is he?_

 

_I don’t know._

 

_You know. You must know. There’s only so many ways he can bypass our systems. You fortified him._

 

_Again, do you have evidence or are all these baseless, nonsensical accusations._

 

Cassandra watched her father’s lips curl. He turned to her. “Cass.”

 

Cassandra hesitated. She didn’t like using her skills on her family. She tried her best to avoid it if she could, but this was serious. Barbara’s judgement of the situation was compromised.

 

She stepped forward and as she did so, Barbara narrowed her eyes at her, a challenge in them, as though daring her to read her. Father stepped aside to allow her a better view. Cassandra glanced at Barbara, at her hunched shoulders, slightly tensed fingers and lack of leg movement — the strain that showed a distinct attempt not to fidget  — then back at her father.

 

“She knows.”

 

Satisfied, Batman turned to the Oracle and raised an eyebrow. Barbara didn’t waver and she didn’t slump. She jutted her chin up at him and looked him dead in the eye. “No.” _Over my dead body_ , was left unsaid but was heard regardless.

 

There was a long tense moment of absolute silence as Bruce glared down at Barbara, then, without warning, he turned around and stalked pass Cassandra and to the open window.

 

With a silent apology to Barbara, Cassandra slipped out of the window after her father and they wounded up on top of the clocktower. Father stared out at landscape grimly, his Batman equipment looking oddly out of place in the setting sun.

 

“Did you see what Jason was sending her before she closed the interface?” He asked.

 

Cassandra nodded.

 

“Good, then I assume you have it memorized. Uncode it. With another omega reported missing, he’s bound to be active. Tonight might be the only chance we have  I want you to find him and bring him and his teammates in, understood?”

 

She nodded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the erratic updates. I'm trying to upload as much as I can but school's been crazy and it's my final year (yes, I know it's a bad time to start a multi-chapter fanfiction but I need something OTHER than school work or I'd go nuts) so I've been running on fumes. There's a holiday now so I'm trying to pump out more chapters to slowly upload later. Hopefully, for at least the next few chapters the upload schedule will be more stable.


	8. Number Two: Gems

Jason swore silently as he tapped against this com-unit. Nothing but static. Wonderful. Being alone in Gotham’s sewers unable to see or smell straight because of the nauseous fumes that permeated the place was exactly how he wanted to spend his night.

 

He had split up with his teammates little over 3 hours ago, each tasked with a designated route to investigated. As the one with the most sensitive nose and the least superhuman abilities, Jason got the shortest, most straightforward route. It was _supposed_ to be a straight plunge, bringing him through all of the fuse and pump boxes in the north-east and only requiring him to take right turns. It _shouldn’t have_ taken him more than 90 minutes total and yet, here he was, twice the estimated duration later, still wondering the decrepit pits of Gotham, finding _not a single_ fuse or pump central and at this point wondering if he had somehow walked his way to the next dimension. It was impossible, but seriously, where the fuck were the centrals the map said would be here?

 

It didn’t help that his com-unit had been nothing but static since late evening and all his phone calls to Barbara went unanswered. He wasn't too worried about her safety since the Bats would be there in a heartbeat if she was in danger, but it was unsettling that she would choose now of all times to ignore him.

 

Theoretically, with his super hearing, Biz would be able to hear Jason if he yelled hard enough, but considering they were hunting down evidence of jackals and murder, Jason in all his apex predator glory, would rather not become chow.

 

So yes, Jason was meandering aimlessly at this point, with half a mind to turn back but also too stubborn to because he did not want to endure another session of stewing in sewer gas thank you very much, so he’d much rather just get this all over with.

 

Balancing precariously on the narrow, slime slicked pavements the framed both sides of the gushing canal, he made another right turn to face more darkness. Muttering sourly, he kept pace.

 

His industrial strength flashlight might as well have been a single fairy light for all the good it did him. It barely lite two steps in front of his, enough for him to see where the pavement diverge in direction, but otherwise, nada. If there were anything in front of him beyond the immediate, he would walk right into it. Hell, the teenage mutant ninja turtles could be doing salsa in circles around him and he’d probably never know because a goddamn night light would put this stupid flashlight to shame.

 

Now that he thought about it, he had probably walked right pass the fuse central.

 

Jason stopped walking at the thought and stared balefully down at his flashlight.

 

He brought it up to shine into the canal and as expected, he could see nothing but a small circle of dark water rushing through. He couldn’t even see beneath the surface though he wasn’t sure if that was due to dirt or because his flashlight sucked. He would give it a benefit of a doubt.

 

Jason shone the light source across from him and his heart almost leapt out of his mouth when he glimpsed the edge of something moving away from the light.

 

What the —

 

With his heart in his mouth, he moved the flashlight quickly along the wall across him, wrists snapping from side to side and eyes darting to catch movement. He tried to remind himself that his suppressants, which he had taken just before leaving the apartment for this mission, sometimes caused flickering spots to appear in his eyes and maybe it was just that. He remained unconvinced though. The further he tried to shine the light, the dimmer it got. His visual range was limited to strictly 2 meters on either side, even if wolf vision, and there was nothing there.

 

The thumping of his heart was beginning to slow down but at this point, Jason was _done_ . He was, for all intents and purposes blind in this unusually inky darkness and with the sound and smell of rushing waste water echoing in the tight space, his hearing and sense of smell were useless. Whether his teammates believed it or not, he had some sense of self-preservation and here, now, with nearly all his senses compromised due to the dank, smelly, _dark as fuck_ waste chutes of Gotham, Jason knew that he was out of his depth. If there was something stalking him, waiting to attack, Jason would not stand a snowflake’s chance in hell, not when he couldn’t even _see_ what he was fighting.

 

Taking a sharp turn, Jason began speed walking the way he came, taking rapid left turns and straining to have more awareness of the environment around him. It didn’t do much good. He still couldn’t sense anything beyond what he thought were the normal sounds associated with being in the sewer, but the thought that someone or something — and it had definitely been a large animal or a person shifted because from what he saw of whatever it was, it would at least come up to his hip and Jason did not know a single breed of rat that could grow to that size — had been following him, just an easy leap away on the opposite pavement, without his knowledge, made his skin crawl.

 

He never liked it when his senses were deprived and he liked it even less when he felt like he was in danger. It made him very paranoid.

 

(It didn’t help that these un-lite passages reminded him too much of another time, where the walls were also too close and his skin was also this tight. Everything was too small and the rankling smell of waste, dirt and decay hung in the stagnant air making it hard to breathe. It was all too quiet and too still. The coffin made him feel like he was dead. No. Worse. It felt like he was dying all over again.)

 

Jason cursed the fact that the sewer was separate from the Lower Gotham tunnels because he couldn’t even make a quick escape. It also meant that whoever it was stalking him had been following him for a while since they couldn't have joined him from the other tunnel.

 

Trying to keep the sound and rhythm of his breathing in check, his pointed ears flickered restlessly as he backtracked through the underground passages.

 

It was a relief when the darkness began to ease and his vision got clearer and clearer. Unable to resist, Jason ran the last mile, sprinting up the stairway and bursting through the arch of the tunnel into the main sewer passage. He was still underground, but it was bigger here, cavernous almost and more importantly, lite and not as smelly.

 

Jason stared at the lights that all along the sides of the wall then turned back to the sub-tunnel he had emerged from. It looked almost like a hell hole now, like an opaque black that had been painted on the side of the main tunnel.

 

Staggering slightly, Jason moved to the side of the sub-tunnel he had gone into leaned against the wall trying to calm himself.

 

It was irrational, his fear of small, dark places. Logically, he knew he wasn’t trapped in a coffin. Logically, he knew all of his faculties were functioning and that he could get out. Logically, he knew he wasn’t transported back in time to that horrible moment his eyes opened to pitch black darkness and immobility.

 

Logically, he knew and understood, but logic was nothing against fear.

 

He was not doing that again, that was a promise. Screw running through cramp tunnels looking for whatever jackal pack, he’d find Viktor some other way.

 

Releasing a lengthy, controlled breath through his nose, his breathing eased as he stared at the light on the wall across from him, an unflattering yellow thing, and slowly let himself relax. Almost weakly, he pushed himself off, ready to leave even the main tunnels. He’s had enough of being underground to last him a _long_ while.

 

As he turned to leave, there was a thump, almost like a whisper, from the sub-tunnel. It was soft, a sound that might not have been there at all but Jason’s skin was still crawling and his senses had never been more alert. He knew what he heard.

 

Whipping around sharply, the flashlight hit the ground as his hands snapped up. The sound of his guns notching and readying to fire echoed around him. He stared into the darkness, waiting for a movement, anything for him to shoot. But nothing happened. No movement, no more sound; nothing.

 

His grip on his gun tightened to stop them from shaking. Logic, he reminded himself, there was nothing to fear. There was nothing he couldn’t kill now that he could see.

 

That was when he noticed it, a small flutter. It made no sense since there was no breeze, but he noticed the small flicker of movement anyway. A small slip of paper laying at the entrance of the sub-tunnel like it had always been there.

 

It was new.

 

It laid on top of one of Jason’s wet footprints. The water was dirty enough that had Jason stepped on it, there would have been dark shoe marks staining the inexplicably dry and pristine piece of paper. Jason stared at it, not sure if he should just ignore it or go and pick it up. It could be a trap, laid for him to bend down and expose his neck for a chomp. But it could also be a message.

 

With humour, Jason thought back to when he had once asked Bruce what would happen if the creepy notes left by criminal masterminds got blown away or ignored by the hero of the story. Would there be a grand plan if the hero refused to engage?

 

Bruce had simply said that the hero would never ignore the note because the hero would always engage. That’s what made them different from normal people.

 

But what if the hero never wanted to be a hero? Jason thought in response to a memory long past. Not everyone wanted to be a hero. Some people know they just aren’t cut out for it.

 

After a moment of silent debate, Jason decided he would just get the paper. Keeping his guns trained on the opening of the tunnel, he cautiously crept forward until he stood right above it. Slowly, he bent down, eyes scanning the space in front of him as his hands patted the ground sightlessly to grope for the paper. As soon as his fingers brushed it, he snatched it up and was up and moving away from the opening

 

His eyes flickered quickly to the crumpled paper and shoved it into his pocket before jumping back up to the unmoving shadows of the sub-tunnel entrance. Deciding not to tempt whoever was in there, he whipped around and jogged towards the exit of the sewer.

 

But even before he reached the opening, he knew something was wrong. He could see his teammates in a distance, but they were not approaching, which was unusual because Bizarro had the tendency to rush towards him and give him rib-crushing hugs, even if he had only gone out for a smoke. No matter what Artemis or he said, Biz never listened. They didn’t really mind, it was likely some sort of separation anxiety, and if hugs gave Bizarro some kind of comfort than it was the least Arty and he could do.

 

Yet, he wasn’t coming for hugs now. In fact, neither of his teammates were moving. They were too far for Jason to see what they were doing but Jason recognised suspicious circumstances better than he recognised common sense and everything about the scene screamed ‘trap’. Still, they were his teammates. Trap or not, he wasn’t leaving them.

 

For the nth time that night, adrenaline and fear in equal measures pumped through his veins. He couldn’t help but picture how his teammates have been the past few days, coughing and wheezing, unable to breathe properly. Making them enter sewers filled with toxic smelling fumes probably didn’t help. Just imagining someone creeping behind them, imagining their senses dulled from the focus of trying to breathe properly giving the person opportunity to strike, and the sound of their bodies hitting the ground — it all made fear and guilt clench in a vice grip around Jason’s throat. It was his plan; his fault.

 

If he needed any more convincing that his teammates were vulnerable in Gotham, he had them. Jason promised himself that if they made it through tonight alive, he was making them leave, with some made-up leads if he had to.

 

Trying to even out his heated breathing, Jason flicked on the infrared in his helmet and began moving out, guns out as his mind hurried through possible adversaries as he stalked closer to his teammates, body pressing against shadows to avoid detection. The most logical culprit was whoever had been following him in the tunnel and the most logical identity for that person would either be the Jackals or whatever sick freak was after him.

 

As he got closer, his view of his teammates cleared and he could see that they were definitely knocked out. His stomach sank in trepidation. From his crouch under the shadows of a line of large trees, he could see that they sat back to back, both slumped over their knees. They were not tied together and Jason didn’t see Artemis’ axe anywhere. That meant one of two things, either the perpetrator was so fast she didn’t have time to call on it, or it was taken afterwards. But Artemis would have put on a damn good fight because she hated when other people touched her weapons and Jason saw no injuries on her or Bizarro. In fact, neither of them looked any worse for wear, though that never said much. Poisons were just as, if not more effective.

 

Jason moved closer, quicker now that he could see them clearly. He kept most of his attention on his surroundings but he also anxious to get to his teammates. Were they breathing? Were they _alive_? He was just a quarter mile away from them and the breeze had died down. The air was very, very still, yet, Jason’s ears still could not detect any sounds of movement, not even the sounds of traffic and nature. The stillness was unsettling and he hesitated at the edge of the shadows that concealed him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the alarm bells in his head were screaming, shrill and constant. His senses went wild in their attempts to find something, a smell, a sound, _something_ to help him find the threat. He was in danger but from what?  And where?

 

His eyes darted across his helmet’s visual sensors again, trying in vain to find out what was ticking his instincts off.

 

Just then, Bizarro let out a small whimper.

 

In an instant, Jason felt his hackles rise, a reflexive reaction triggered by the sound of his pack mate’s distress, and for just an instant, the entirety of Jason’s focus zeroed in on Bizarro. Almost just as quickly, he realised his mistake. Too late.

 

Jason felt the sharp prick of the needle as it embedded itself under his skin, pumping foreign liquid into his bloodstream. His vision blurred. Just before as he hit the ground, he felt thin, strong arms wrap themselves around his torso, holding him up.

 

The last thing he saw was the foggy image of his teammates slumped over themselves, before his body shut down.

 

* * *

 

All at once, Jason slammed back into consciousness and his eyes flew open, uncontrolled and wild. He groaned in discomfort. Blinking the spot out of his eyes, Jason slowly came to a few realisations at once. One, he was not in a dingy evil lair. Two, he was on a surprisingly soft surface. And three, he was in a room that looked too suspiciously and dreadfully familiar.

 

Unable to move much of his body, Jason resorted to turning his head from side to side and squinting through the spots. Bizarro was laying on his left and Artemis on his right. They were both unconscious but they laid close enough that Jason could feel warm puffs of air as they breathed out. _They were alive_.

 

Jason breathed a sigh of relief.

 

A rustling sound from the space beyond his feet made him instantly alert and he struggled to prop his upper body up and he had to blink when he saw Alfred walk out of the attached toilet, to what he now realised was his old room in the Manor.

 

Jason stared as Alfred moved silently around the room, nonchalantly dusting and straightening things out. The older man must have noticed that Jason was awake — he couldn’t not have, they made eye contact and everything — but he seemed content to just let a not uncomfortable silence settle between them. Abruptly, Jason remembered how, in the past, when he had free time and when no one else was home, Jason would bring his novels down to the kitchen as Alfred prepared lunch or dinner and they would each do their own, a comfortable silence between them as they willed away a quiet day in each other’s company. It was a routine they had, and whenever Jason felt agitated or angry, he would take comfort in it because it lacked expectation. Whether it was to speak, to explain himself, or to prove himself, Alfred expected none of that and Jason appreciated it more than he ever allowed himself to express.

 

Jason cleared his throat and Alfred turned to look at him. As their eyes met, Jason suddenly felt his throat tighten.  The last time he had seen Alfred was just before his death, as he said goodnight to the butler before sneaking out of the house for the last time. When he came back to life, for some reason, Jason did not want the Alfred to see him like that so he stayed away and made a conscious effort not to entangle the elderly man in his rampage and as a result, have not seen him in a long time.

 

And now that they were in the same room, Jason had no idea what to say.

 

In the end, it was Alfred who broke the silence as he walked calmly to Jason and rested a gloved hand on his shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Master Jason.” He said warmly.

 

If possible, Jason’s throat tightened even more at the sound of the familiar posh British accent that was somehow always uniquely Alfred in its warm affection. Jason found that he couldn’t say anything more than croak out, “Alfred.” like an apology and a homecoming.

 

Thankfully, in his inexplicable way, Alfred understood. He gave Jason another warm smile and a squeezed on his shoulder before dropping his hand and straightening. “Your teammates should be waking up soon, I will bring some food up for you. Water is by the nightstand. Lunch should be ready in another hour.” And with that, he departed before Jason could find his voice and ask what the hell was going on.

 

Jason blinked in shock. He glanced back down at his teammates, then at the nightstand. Sure enough, there was a jug of water with three glasses turned upside down on it. Reaching over Bizarro, Jason poured himself a glass and sipped on it as he sat there trying to figure things out.

 

It was clear who had whisked them away from the sewer and likely who had been stalking him in the tunnel, but _why_?

 

No matter how Jason looked at it, it would be far more convenient to just drop his team into Arkham while they were out cold rather than bring them back to the Manor if Bruce’s end goal was to arrest them. And why did Babs not warn him? Why did Steph not warn him?

 

And what the hell was up with the stupid _note_?

 

Irritated now that he knew who was behind their kidnapping, Jason started to roughly pat his pants for the note, wanting to find out what dumb stuff the Bats wrote on the note. As he did so, one of his elbows accidentally dug into Artemis’ stomach and the Amazonian let out a pained grunt. Jason froze, wide-eyed as he watched his female teammate struggle into consciousness, hands over her stomach. Images of all the times Bizarro and he played hot potato with who would bear the life-endangering responsibility of waking Artemis up flashed through his head.

 

Jason shifted towards Bizarro’s still sleeping form, leaning away as he watched Artemis’ eyes open to look accusingly at him, rasping out, “Little one...” menacingly.

 

Jason’s heard her say that nickname like a threat a million times and this time, it was definitely a threat.

 

“It uh, was an accident?” He said, leaning further away with his palms out. At this point, he was almost laying on top of Bizarro, though the clone was still not responsive.

 

Instead of hitting him back like he thought she would, she said, to his confusion, “Your _stupid_ family.”

 

“I— what?”

 

“You heard me.” She glared.

 

“Wait,” Jason looked at her, startled, “you knew it was them?”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “When the last thing one sees before passing out is a figure wearing a suit emblazoned with a giant bat across the chest, one tends to come to the conclusion that your crazy family is responsible.”

 

“Oh.” Jason blinked at her before looking down at his half-filled glass of water. He held it out for her. “Water?”

 

She scowled and swiped it from him. Jason got himself another glass as she asked, “So, what do they want?”

 

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. Alfred’s bringing food up for us though.”

 

“They’re trying to poison us.”

 

“I doubt it. Alfred’s pretty big on having a balanced diet. He’s a bit of a health nut.”

 

“Yes,” Artemis said flatly, “I am sure they drugged us and brought us all the way here to ensure that we are eating correctly.”

 

Jason rolled his eyes at her scathing tone. “Like I said, I don’t even pretend to know what they want from us. But since they don’t particularly like me — they hate me actually — and they definitely don’t like Metas like you and Biz, I’d say it’s safer to assume that we should probably beat it as soon as Biz wakes up.”

 

“How do you suppose we do that? By stumbling out?”

 

Jason blinked at her. “Do the drugs have a side effect of sarcasm because woah, you’re prickly, more than usual.”

 

Before Artemis could reply — and it did look like she had something particularly scathing at the tip of her tongue — the door opened to reveal Alfred with a tray of what looked like tarts and cookies. Trailing behind him was, to Jason’s displeasure, Dick, Tim and Stephanie.

 

Stephanie looked incredibly guilty but ironically, aside from Alfred, she also looked like she was the most comfortable in his presence. She wriggled the tips of her fingers in a weak greeting before breaking from Alfred’s shadow and jumping into the bed and crawling to sit on Jason’s shin.

 

Dick and Tim continued to hover behind Alfred as he set the tray down, clearly uncertain of what they should do though they remained when Alfred left. To Jason’s amusement, Tim looked a bit alarmed when Stephanie settled herself on Jason’s legs.

 

“So, how are you feeling?” Stephanie said, attempting some cheer in the heavy atmosphere. Artemis snorted.

 

“You didn’t warn us,” Jason complained at the blonde.

 

Stephanie looked at him in disbelieve. “I did!”

 

“Yeah? How did you do it?” Jason asked, folding his arms across his chest in an admittedly childish way. For some reason, Stephanie brought that out in him. “With a prayer and a message in the sky?”

 

“No! With a text message.”

 

This time Artemis was the one to retort. “And when did you send it? Just as your sister embed her needles in us?”

 

Stephanie shook her head. “I sent it right after the pre-patrol briefing, which was just after nightfall, to warn you to stay in for the night.”

 

Tim made a sound of protest at that but they ignored him.

 

“I didn’t receive anything,” Jason said.

 

“How would I know that?” Stephanie whined, pressing her feet into his stomach, kneading in protest.

 

Jason slapped her feet away and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. It’s too late now.”

 

He shifted when Artemis reached across him to the tray and snagged herself one of the strawberry tarts. He watched her give it a suspicious sniff before taking a bite. After a few seconds of deliberation, she gave him a nod. Oh good, the treats were not poisoned then.

 

Eagerly, he took a cookie and tossed another one to Stephanie.

 

“So, why are we here?” He asked, chewing into some chocolate chips.

 

Stephanie shrugged. “We don’t know. Bruce didn’t tell us.”

 

“Great. Any chance the two of them over there,” He jerked his head towards the Alpha-beta duo standing by the wall, startling them, “aren’t here to keep us from escaping.”

 

“None.”

 

“Actually,” Tim cleared his throat, looking pointedly at Stephanie “All _three_ of us are here to help you guys get down to the dining room for lunch.”

 

“Notwithstanding kicking and screaming, I assume?” Jason said, just shy of a sneer.

 

Tim's featured stiffened coldly. “If you don’t want to go down, you could just say so. The food can be brought up.” He gestured towards the steadily decreasing tray of snacks Alfred brought up.

 

“Bruce isn’t home.” Dick cut in, almost randomly but the sound of his voice sliced through the tension in the room the same way it raced down Jason's spine, staggering and deliberate. Everyone turned to him in surprise but Jason took his time, trying not to show any reaction to the voice he missed so dearly. When he eventually did turn towards Dick, Jason found that the older boy was looking at him. No one else but him. 

 

When their eyes met, Jason felt something in his chest constrict uncomfortably but he stubbornly ignored it and looked away, taking a bite of his cookie.

 

“We’ll wait for Biz to wake up before we decide.” He said, hoping his voice didn’t wobble.

 

For some reason, no one replied and for a moment, another bout of tense silence filled the room. Jason shifted and looked towards the only female alpha in the room. Outwardly, Artemis simply raised an eyebrow at him and took a bite out of her third — blueberry, this time — tart, but Jason felt her shift closer to him and her leg pressed against his. It made him feel slightly better, though the silence was still overbearing. 

 

Thankfully, after a few glances between him and Dick, Stephanie clapped her hands together, breaking the silence.

 

“ _Okay_ , how about we come back better later? Sounds good? I think so.” She hopped from the bed and grabbed Tim and Dick by the arms, ushering them out. Before the closed the door, she shot Jason a look that said ‘I have so many questions that I expect you to answer later’.

 

Jason flopped back down on the bed with a groan. Artemis snorted in amusement and reached over for another tart.

 

*

 

An hour and a half later, Jason found himself freshly showered and changed, sitting in the dining hall with a groggy Bizarro and a grumpy Artemis on either side of him and Stephanie, Tim, Dick and Cass across from them. Alfred sat on Artemis’ other side and Barbara, who he had been told arrived not long after he had woken up, sat on Bizarro’s other side. He had also been told Damian was at school and Bruce was at a meeting, so they couldn’t join them, to Jason’s relief.

 

But even without them, the silence at the table was painfully awkward, with only the sounds coming from the clinking of their metal utensils meeting their plates, and nobody, not even Stephanie, seemed inclined to break it this time. Sitting here now, Jason regretted letting Alfred guilt trip him into agreeing to go down to have lunch with everyone.

 

Surprisingly, after another few minutes of pressurising silence, Cassandra was the one to break it.

 

“Jason.”

 

Jason’s head’s snapped up automatically at his name being called and he stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

 

“Misunderstanding.”

 

Jason glanced at Artemis before looking back at the former assassin. “What?”

 

She frowned at him. She gestured towards him, Barbara and Stephanie, then at the empty seat at the head of the table where Bruce would have sat if he was present, before repeating, “Misunderstanding.”

 

“Me?” Jason asked.

 

Cassandra shook her head. “Father.”

 

“Bruce? You think _Bruce_ is misunderstood?” Jason said in disbelief.

 

Cassandra nodded.

 

There was another awkward silence where Jason looked at her like she was insane while everyone else looked confused.

 

“It was you,” Artemis said suddenly, attracting everyone’s attention. She was eyeing Cassandra with a vicious predatory gleam in her eyes. “You were the one who attacked us.”

 

Cassandra blinked before nodding, looking almost uncertain. Jason was unsurprised — she was the most skilled out of all the Bats and would be equipped to deal with Metas — but Artemis had this look on her face, the way her amber eyes were narrowed and in slits, the same look she had when going after Circe; hatred and personal offence.

 

Jason bumped his leg against hers under the table, nervous that she was about to leap over the table and straggle Cassandra. There were only two types of people that ticked Artemis off more than anything in the world, someone beating her in an unfair fight and anyone that messes with what she considers hers, teammates and weapons included. Cassandra, like Circe, checked both boxes off pretty thoroughly, which did not bode well for their chances of getting through this meal without a fight of some sort.

 

Artemis glanced at him and scowled but she bumped him back and pointedly popped a cherry tomato into her mouth so Jason counted it settled.

 

Satisfied, Jason turned back to his own plate, only to realise there were eyes on him. Strikingly gorgeous cobalt blue eyes that belonged to a specific someone to be exact.

 

Jason fought a grimace as he stared determinedly down at his own plate, not knowing what to do because holy fuck, there was so much left unsaid and so much hung haphazardly up in the air when he had ghosted from Gotham. The mother of all cliffhangers was exactly what their relationship status amounted to be. And of all things, they left each other after a night of sex like they couldn’t be more cliche. Perfect alpha and the poor, pitiful omega, starcrossed perfect matches that needed to go through trials and perils to be together. They were like a bad storybook trope, except happy endings only happen in fiction.

 

Truth to be told, Jason had tried his best not to think about Dick at all during his journey of self-discovery and he definitely had tried to put Dick out of his mind while he was in Gotham. Surprisingly, forgetting Dick back in Gotham was easier since there were so many distractions with his case and his teammates feeling sick. Now though, with the object of his desires literally sitting right in front of him — really, who decided on this horrible sitting arrangement — Jason was hard pressed _not_ to think about Dick because as much as he tried to keep him from his mind, he had missed him, dearly. His voice, his scent, _him_.

 

Whether or not he liked it, Jason’s heart had decided that Dick was his perfect alpha mate and it wasn’t like Jason _disagreed_. He was just more grounded in reality.

 

Dick and he would never work out. Perfection like Dick’s simply did not settle for defects like Jason and stealing a quick glance, Jason could confirm that yes, Dick Grayson looked exactly as great as he remembered him to be, with his blue eyes, dark hair and chiselled jaw thing going on as strong as it’s ever been, making the alpha stupidly gorgeous and so far out of his league they weren’t even playing the same sport.

 

Still, tell that to Jason traitorous heart that pretty much leapt into lightspeed when their eyes met because no matter how he tried to reason with himself, his emotions refused to adhere. God, he was pinning like a love-sick teenager. Or more appropriately, he’s never left his teenage-crush phase because Jason’s only ever had the hots for one alpha and one only.

 

Just remembering his teenage self fumbling over himself whenever Dick came over, even before he presented, was nightmarish. Dick’s never even noticed him then. In fact, Dick probably didn’t notice Jason at all and if he hadn’t chanced upon Jason in his safehouse just as when his suppressants failed him as he thought only happened in novels, he probably never would have noticed him.

 

It was mortifying really, the snippets he remembered of that night, of pretty much begging Dick to fuck him.

 

Unlike what the historically alpha-controlled medical reports would like people to think, omegas are perfectly aware of what they’re doing during heats and they don’t simply lust madly after any alpha’s knot. Heats were more like biological drunk spurs that remove all the normal inhibitions anyone would have, making omegas do things they typically would not. Meaning they act on their hearts desires and their true character showed. Alphas were also perfectly in control in the presence of an omega in heat if they so choose to be. Sure, there is an increased compulsion to take care of an omega in heat but it never has to entails sex, so all the bullshit alphas like to say about omegas coercing them into sex with their heats were absolute trash.

 

That was all common knowledge now, which only made Jason’s behaviour during that heat even more embarrassing and Dick’s response more detestable to Jason. There was no doubt in Jason’s mind that Dick knew about his feelings — how could he not with the way Jason wantonly came onto him — and to think that Dick pitied him enough to actually have sex with him made Jason want to throw up. His heat might not have coerced Dick into having sex with him, but he definitely exploited Dick’s platonic care for him in order to have closer contact with his desired alpha. An alpha that up to that point never showed interest in him. How much more deplorable could he get?

 

The only thing the scientists got right was that omegas were at peak fertility during heats and Jason thank whatever deity out there every day that he did not get pregnant that night.

 

The horror he felt when he had woken up cuddled against Dick with the heady smell of sex and heat pheromones in the air had been enough to snap him out of his heat even though it had not formally ended its typical 3-4 day cycle. The effect of the Lazarus pit combined with his disgust at his own actions compelled him to leave the sleeping Dick in a blind panic. He couldn’t face the alpha. They were still fighting at that point and Dick was probably out looking to _arrest_ him for goodness sake and he had exploited what remaining concern Dick had for him and made him do _that_.

 

Everything that happened just hours later, with the Joker, the Batarang, his leave from Gotham, it had all been a right trainwreck but nothing had made Jason hate himself more than what he did to Dick.

 

So after it was all un-said but done, Jason couldn’t face Dick. He couldn’t look up to meet his eyes. To know that the alpha knew of his feelings and didn’t feel the same, to know that he had done what he had to Dick — well, it was painful but not hard to imagine the rejection he would be met with.

 

Jason gripped his utensils harder. His life was a disaster and a plainly miserable one at that.

 

A crash from beside him drew his attention. Looking to his side, he saw that Bizarro had knocked his glass of water over. Jason looked at his friend in alarm. Bizarro’s reflexes were usually fast enough to save the glass before it even spills a drop of water, what with having vision that extended on the molecular level and all. Yet, the puddle of his spilt drink was now pooling wider and wider, indisputable.

 

Bizarro frowned as he fumbled to get the glass upright. Jason and Artemis’s eyes met before they were both standing and out of their seats.

 

“I think we’re done here.” He said, gently removing the glass from Biz’s large hands and placing them on the table with a decisive clink.

 

Artemis was already guiding their teammates, who had been disorientated for far too long for a Meta, to a stand.

 

“We will return to the room. Bizarro is clearly unwell.” The Amazonian shot Cassandra another withering look before they turned to leave. As they left, Jason avoided Dick, who had stood the moment Jason had stood.

 

Cassandra was frowning. _I gave him the exact amount of the tranquillizer we would use on Conner. He should not be drowsy now._ She signed at Jason.

 

Jason glanced anxiously back at his teammates before waving off the omega assassin. His mind was already jumping through the possibilities.

 

 _We’ll look into it ourselves._ He signed back before joining his teammates upstairs. As they shut the door to his old room, Jason fired a quick text to Stephanie.

 

_Keep Bruce away._

 

Not even 30 seconds later, he received a reply. _I’ll try._

 

* * *

 

When night fell and still, there was no sign of Bruce anywhere, Jason allowed himself to leave his post by the window to his old bed, where Bizarro was sleeping. Artemis guarded the door as they both researched on Bizarro’s condition.

 

The only thing Jason could attribute it to was Gotham itself. From the beginning, they had shown symptoms of feeling unwell in Gotham. Perhaps it had gotten to the point it was interfering with Bizarro’s healing. Now that he thought about it, it was also unusual that Jason had woken up before Artemis this afternoon. Jason glanced worriedly at his alpha teammate.

 

He needed to get them out and he had the means to.

 

Once Bizarro had fallen asleep, Jason had sent Talia a text to ask for more detail on the Bow of Ra’s. He had gotten a reply just before dinner had been brought to them and he was sure he had enough information that he could convince his teammates to go to Israel for the bow and more importantly, convince them to go without him and leave him here.

 

He had already pitched the idea to Artemis and she was now brooding over it. It helped that Circe’s involvement was confirmed, meaning they were running on a tight schedule, but Jason was still anxious to get his teammates to leave. Their conditions were truly worrying.

 

“I don’t like it,” Artemis said, her unhappiness at their present situation clear in the tight downturn of her lips.

 

Jason hummed in agreement. “I know.” He didn’t like the idea of them splitting up any more than she did.

 

There was another brief pause before Artemis sighed in defeat. Ultimately, they didn’t have a choice. Circe couldn’t get the bow and Jason couldn’t leave Gotham just yet. The only two members available for mobilisation were Artemis and Bizarro.

 

“You guys are getting sick here.”

 

Artemis sniffed. “Amazonians do not fall sick like humans do.”

 

“But Bizarro _is_ sick. And so are you, to a lesser degree.”

 

“It is not as hard to breathe here as it is back at your apartment.” The alpha said stubbornly.

 

Jason raised a disbelieving brow at her, earning a put-out huff.

 

“Fine.” She conceded, shooting him a stern look. “But you will be contactable at least once a day and you will promise us that you will do nothing stupid. Oh, and stay away from the snake, she’s dangerous.”

 

Jason hid his relief that his plan worked with a scoff. “Okay, _mum._ ”

 

He ducked, laughing when a pillow was thrown at him.

 

* * *

Stephanie’s eyes scanned the document quickly. Finding the common link between all the victims had been hell. Other than the fact they were all from the Lower district, it was difficult to pin them to anything else. But in the end, it had been something very mundane that had led her to a breakthrough, namely her own heat suppressants.

 

She had been taking a small break from her research when a notification popped up on her phone. It was a message from her doctor confirming an appointment to pick up next month’s worth of suppressants, something her doctor had gotten into the habit of doing after one too many times of Stephanie forgetting to show up. She had in fact forgotten but more than that, in that instance, the message had given her a possible link. The document she held in her hand was a testament that her spur of the moment hunch was right.

 

It seemed the victims all used to same heat suppressants. The suppressants were a distinct brand called DN-45 that was not only very strong but was also very illegal due to its unknown origin. The primary supplier never registered and so, the ingredients were largely unspecified. The Bats knew about it of course — hence, it was in their database — but bizarrely, they were never able to get samples. Stephanie was aware that Bruce had spent a long time trying especially after multiple of his children presented as o-natured, but his leads always either turn up wrong or destroyed before he could get sufficient amounts to test. Inevitably, more pressing cases came up and Bruce had to turn his attention elsewhere. The search for the suppressants was eventually pushed into the shadows because ultimately, the suppressants had no reports of adverse, sinister effects and without proof, it was hard to make a case to crack down on it.

 

To see it blinking up now was concerning. The Bats had little to no information on it. With information like this, it was as close to a dead end as they could get without the lead actually being a wall. It was almost like a taunt. Either way, it was a striking common link that needed to be looked into.

 

Stephanie was far from surprised Lower district omegas would use illegal suppressants. Based on what the Bats know, the suppressants were _effective_ and pretty much had the ability to all but eliminate any trace of o-nature in a person depending on how much was taken. Even at its most basic, it could halt heats almost indefinitely without the need for the rest periods that normal prescription suppressants require. Its strength was exactly what causes alarm. Omegas could not go completely without heats; it screws up their metabolic systems and had to potential to not only turn them sterile but also make them very weak since their immune system would go down as well. That was exactly why normal prescriptions require rest periods where the omega stops for a month to cleanse their system of the drug and let the body do what it wants — namely go into heat — every six months or so. During the rest periods, doctors would not administer suppressants so the omega really had little choice but let their heat happen. Of course, when the suppression in question is illegal and prescribed by a dealer rather than a doctor, well. There would hardly be a need for grace periods.

 

Stephanie could see the appeal of DN-45 — never having to suffer through a heat sounds great — but she didn’t find the side effect of possible death from all body functions shutting down all that worth it. Still, in Lower Gotham where omegas have to work every day to barely get by, Stephanie could see why they would resort to the drug. Even being out of commission for a day could cause them their rent or meal expenses. Heats were really not an option.

 

Stephanie sighed as she swept the last few paragraphs, confirming the information. Every single one of the victims used the DN-45 but their suppliers were largely kept secret. The secrecy didn’t necessarily mean that it had something to do with the kidnapping/ murders. The DN-45 was illegal but it had a large enough pool of users that the circulation of it was akin to heroin or meth — nothing short of a large drug empire. And there was no one better to ask about that than Jason.

 

She had promised to leave him and his teammates alone for the night, but come tomorrow, she would totally squeeze him for information.

 

After all, case aside, she still needed that inside scoop of his relationship with Dick, juicy details and all.

 

* * *

 

 By sunrise, Jason's teammates were gone and other issues arose.

 

After seeing his teammates off from the bedroom window, with countless of promises to be careful, lots of hugs from Bizarro and more sterns warnings from Artemis, Jason walked down into the dining hall to find Bruce sitting at the head of the table.

 

There was no one else there yet so they were completely alone in each other’s company. They stared at each other, equally startled before Jason took a sharp U-turn and marched back upstairs.

 

But before he even made it halfway up, Dick appeared at the top of the stairway with a sleepy Tim behind him.

 

As Dick opened his mouth to say lord knows what, Jason took another turn-around and this time made his way towards the back, where the kitchen was, only to find Barbara and Alfred leaving the attached laundry room with creases between their brows. Creases that only deepened at the sight of him.

 

In her hand, Barbara held a slip of paper Jason recognised to be the one he found in the tunnel.

 

“Mornin’” He greeted, “What’re you doing with that?”

 

“Where did you get it?” Barbara asked.

 

Jason raised an eyebrow at her. Surely they aren’t taking their stupid prank that far. “In the tunnel, where Cassandra left it.”

 

“Didn’t go in.” The omega in question said quietly from behind him, startling him.

 

He shot her an unamused look. “It’s really not funny anymore.”

 

She frowned at him then looked at Alfred and Barbara in confusion. _What’s happening? What’s funny?_ She signed at all three of them. Jason noticed that she tended to sign was she felt out of her depth or uncomfortable.

 

“Jason, what do you mean?” Barbara said it slowly, in a way that made a sense of foreboding wash over Jason.

 

Now, Jason was confused too. “In the tunnel, Cass was following me and she left the note there for me to pick up as a prank because it made me paranoid?” It ended more as a question as the more spoke the more confused Cass looked and the more uncertain he felt.

 

_I was never in the tunnel. I ambushed all of you outside. Tunnel was too smelly; had no mask._

 

Jason felt the dread from the previous night settle in his stomach as he looked back at the note now crumbled between Barbara’s tight grip.

 

“What does it say.” He asked uncertainly. At this point, Dick, Tim and Bruce were all standing somewhere behind him but he was only vaguely aware.

 

Everything slowed as Barbara turned to show the contents of the note. In scrawling ink, it read:

 

_Gems come out to play._

_And the Wolf knew how this game would end:_

 

_As it always did,_

_A fairytale deviant._

 

_When the sky turns onyx,_

_The Wolf’s hunt begins._

 

_Ambers gleaming,_

_Diamonds bared,_

 

_Rubies will shatter everywhere._

 

 


	9. Honest healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chapter ahead is dense af

Circe smoothed the pad of her finger against the armrest of the ornate gold gilded chair she resided on. Before her sat a curious little raven with intelligent eyes, watching her as she read the letter it had brought her.

 

There wasn’t much written and it certainly told her little about the one who had written it for her but it spelt out an enticing offer so she wasn’t too inclined to dig where she was clearly not wanted. The demands of this mysterious person were easy and fell directly in line with what Circe had already been planning to do — eradicate the meddling Amazonian and her teammates. In exchange, she would get the bow of Ra’s.

 

Of course, Circe knew things were never that easy. The proposal was far too catered for her, an all around seemingly perfect all-win situation for her. No one made deals like this. Her mysterious partner must be getting some hidden benefit from Circe’s involvement but she could not see what.

 

Regardless, she decided as she reached down to brush her finger over the elaborate script inked upon the thick parchment, she would milk this for what it was and if things turned sour, well. She could easily have her magic whisk her away.

 

She smiled cooly at the raven and gave it a slight affirmative tilt of her head. It did not hesitate. Having received the answer it came for, it departed out the open window of her abode in a flurry of feathers. How its master found her place in the first place was another curious thing Circe would have to look into.

 

Circe cast the note one last look before tossing it into the fire, her nails tracing the bejewelled wings of the intricate butterfly that came with the letter before she let it go. She didn’t stay to watch the words disappear in the licks of green fire, her magic already swirling around her, bringing her to the location enscripted in the note.

 

 _Israel_.

 

* * *

 

Jason sank down into the plush cushion behind him, eying everyone’s grim expressions in turn. It was obvious everyone had their two-cents on what the hell was going on but try as he might, Jason could not gauge whether things were swinging for or against him.

 

Sitting between Dick and Bruce had inexplicably, though unsurprisingly, intensified both the awkwardness and the sheer pressure he was under. The two alphas had not taken the note very well and were visibly stewing over it. While their faces remained masks of stony indifference, sitting beside them, Jason could smell the pheromones they were trying — and failing — to tamper down and he knew for a fact that they were _furious_. By proximity alone, two angry alphas put the omega part of him on edge. It didn’t help that everyone else sat two seats down. leaving the three of them stranded at the head of the table.

 

Jason knew that it wasn’t just the note that had caused the spike in tension. He had heard mutters of suppressants, scans and blood tests circulate the night before — Stephanie had kept him updated through the night — so while he was not present for the conversations, he was fully aware of what was discussed. As it stands, information from various places were beginning to surface, from Barbara’s scans to possible suppressant suppliers, things were being unveiled, none of which painted a very nice picture of the case.

 

The blood test of the victim Amelia Steed came back scattered with unidentifiable compounds and Barbara’s systems were run ragged trying to churn up matches to no avail. She was resorting to cross-testing the compounds found in the victim’s blood to the compounds found in the drinks since they were unidentifiable as well. It was not a match to any of them, but on a side note, the compounds in the drinks had been narrowed down into three types, none of which were known to the Bats. Their effects were unknown but the Tim suspected that they were the same three drugs his contact mentioned. Jason and Stephanie knew exactly what drugs they were talking about. Stephanie had said she would be bringing up the in the next meeting, which happened to be later in the day, before patrol.

 

Investigations into Steed’s personal life came back dull and uninteresting but everyone suspected that there was more they were not privy to yet. Other than being a bartender, Jason was sure that she was a prostitute. He had no doubt he could simply check with Carolyn. The prostitution circle in Lower Gotham was small. If Steed was a prostitute, she would know and she would probably know who Steven Well, the shoddy family mart owner was as well.  Stephanie hadn’t sure about asking Carolyn and Jason was sure there was something there she hadn’t told him about but it had been late and he hadn’t wanted to press for more information.

 

As for the still missing omegas, on his side, Jason had told Stephanie that the search in the underground sewers for Viktor or evidence of his abduction turned up empty. Both his teammates had managed to finish their rounds before Cassandra’s ambush but they had found nothing of note. Jason himself came out empty handed.

 

The other two omegas the bats were aware of, Alexander Moller and Jackson Vernon turned up with nothing of note as well. The Bats were all getting very frustrated and that much was obvious. They simply didn’t have the connections and knowledge to make progress in the case. Hell, they didn’t even have full knowledge of the case since they didn’t know there was a whole other omega missing, namely Viktor.

 

No one in Lower Gotham was willing to be forthcoming with them, in both their vigilante form or their civilian form. The secrets of Lower Gotham were too well-kept. Stephanie had spent the better part of the night discussing with him over the phone the merits of revealing what they know to the Bats. Jason was reluctant while Stephanie was resigned. They had eventually concluded that they would postpone doing that for now while they continued searching in obscurity from the Bat radar a little longer.

 

However, the discovery of the note this morning had blown those plans right out of the water and that was how Jason found himself sitting in the dining hall once again, in his current predicament. He was pretty sure it said something about him that he missed his teammates before breakfast was even over.

 

Stephanie, two empty seats down from where Dick was sitting, was shooting Jason looks that screamed ‘we need to tell them what we know’ but Jason was resolutely ignoring her. Barbara who sat across from her looked torn between agreeing with Stephanie and sympathising with Jason’s plight.

 

The three of them had not found time to discuss how they would proceed now that Jason was in Bat custody. Jason was still sour that he was even there and part of him was  _really_ looking forward to Barbara’s explanation as to her lack of warning to him about the incoming ambush. Stephanie’s own explanation, which she gave at length the night before and was far more extensive than what she said while Dick and Tim were present that afternoon, had been weak but understandable. Jason was still miffed but he couldn’t exactly blame Stephanie for not knowing that the big Bat was going to strike him so soon. As far as she had been aware, Bruce and Cassandra were giving priority to the case, not him. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know it was the other way around.

 

Still, the entire situation made Jason want to just shut down for a while. Reality was starting to set in and it was getting increasingly hard to deal with now that his teammates were not there to support him. Barbara and Stephanie could only side with him so much, considering their standing allegiance to the Bat-family. He had no idea what the Bruce was planning to do with him and if he would be sent to Arkham in an hour or in a week. Either way, his teammates would not be there to bust him out. He was on his own as he was starting to realise.

 

If Stephanie and he revealed that they knew more about the case than they let on, that would be more on his plate because that would mean more things for the Bats to grill him on. So, he opted to ignore Stephanie and the lasers she was shooting at him with her eyes.

 

From his peripheral view, Jason saw Stephanie’s eyes narrow when she realised she was going to be ignored. Jason watched in alarm as something like determination coloured her features. She cleared her throat and Jason whipped his head to look fully at her. This time, he was the one shooting eye-lasers at her in warning while she ignored him. Once she had everyone’s eyes on her, Steph said, “Look, I know what it looks like. The notes are obviously pointing to Jason as the killer with that whole ‘wolf hunting’ thing but he’s not.”

 

Jason blinked at the direction she was taking the discussion. Beside him, Bruce shifted, lifting an eyebrow at the blonde. “And how would you know that?”

 

“ _Because_ Babs and I have been working in the case with him and we have more information than we told you.”

 

This caused more than one raised brow around the table as everyone shot the trio looks of disbelief.

 

“Yes, you heard me.” Stephanie met every one of their looks with a lift of her chin, “Jason was with Barbara when the body was found.”

 

To Barbara’s credit, she didn’t even flinch when all eyes turned to her for confirmation. She nodded. “He was with me,” She said firmly, “And I had eyes on him the moment he entered Gotham— Don’t look at me like that, Dick — unless Jason has somehow managed  to learn magic, it’s impossible that he’s the killer.”

 

“Right, now that that’s off the table. Let’s settle everything else about the case so that we can plan properly for patrols tonight. And before you start,” She shot the two alphas beside Jason a contrite look, “keep your angst to yourselves. Hash it out later when the rest of us are out of range, thank you very much.”

 

Jason cursed the girl for the unnecessary reminder of what’s sure to come but the twitch he caught from Bruce was almost enough to make up for it. Almost.

 

“Right,” Stephanie stood and gave a resolute clap. She spoke quickly, “so Jason and I are from Lower Gotham, obvious things are obvious, but the point is, we know about the drugs and we can tell you what they are and what they do. Pretty sure Jason knows some of the dealers too so he might be able to get you guys samples. Also, Jason knows quite a few of Lower Gotham’s prostitutes and he can totally get more information about Steed and Well from them. Oh and, there’s this other missing omega you didn’t know about called Viktor that Jason’s trying to find because his friend Carolyn requested for it. Things are looking pretty bad for Viktor because he made a phone call to Carolyn saying that he was being chased by jackals and that was the last we heard of him. Apparently, it was pretty violent but we aren’t sure if he’s dead or kidnapped. Carolyn said she heard that it happened by water, that’s why Jason and his team was searching in the sewers. This whole time, Babs and I had been working with him. Babs first. I came in later on when I realised the Red Hood was back. Hmm, what else am I missing…”

 

Jason stared at Stephanie is horror as she dropped revelation after revelation like bombs. He could see the darkening looks of those sitting around the table and he couldn't help but sink lower in his seat. Gosh, this was going to be a nightmare.

 

His eyes met Barbara and they had a silent but very alarmed exchange of expressions.

 

“Okay,” Jason turned back to Stephanie, “I think that’s all I have. Confession over.” She sat down.

 

For a long while, those at the table were silent. Jason watched as everyone who had not been in the know absorb the new information like sponges. He also watched as, with every piece of information they register, Bruce and Dick got angrier and angrier. Lord help him get out of this alive. If looks were anything to go by, they were going to _flay_ him.

 

“So let me get this straight,” Dick gritted out as he turned towards Jason, “You knew this whole shitshow was about you. It’s _obviously_ targeted at you, and you guys,” He eyed Stephanie and Barbara in turn, staring them down “knew that rather than the killer, Jason is the target. _And yet,_ all three of you decided that it was safe to pursue without any kind of assistance whatsoever and you still went out investigating the sewers _alone_?” The words got increasingly aggravated as Dick continued and it seemed Stephanie was now realising the mistake she made when truth-bombing the family. Maybe a little more tact would have helped.

 

Jason opened his mouth to answer but he snapped it shut when the alpha snapped, “Don’t even start.”

 

Jason began scowling as he felt irritation starting to simmer under his skin. How convenient it was for Dick to start worrying for his safety _now_ of all times.

 

“You’re all _idiots_. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is?” Dick continued, “There’s some psycho out to get you and you still go out alone. You might as well take an axe to your neck yourself! And I can’t believe you helped to cover him Babs, I thought you had more sense than that. You even went as far as to fake a break-in at the GCPD headquarters to cover for him getting samples—”

 

“Wait, what are you talking about? So the break-in was fake?” Tim interrupted in confusion.

 

“I don’t know, you ask her.” Dick groused, glaring at his red-haired best friend.

 

Barbara, who had sunken low in her wheelchair, straighten up with indignation. “No, it was not fake. There really was a break in. Jason had gone to get his samples _before_ midnight. We have no idea who it is but whoever had taken all the files of the case was not Jason.” At the disbelieving look Dick gave her, she insisted, “It’s true!”

 

“Wait, wait,” Stephanie said, “Why would you think Babs faked the break-in to cover-up for Jason? How’d you even know Jason went back for the body? Even I didn’t know that.”

 

Dick blinked, startled that the tables were now turned on him. “I… well, I knew Babs was in contact with Jason and I was one of the cops first on the scene. I know Jason hadn’t managed to get his samples so the logical conclusion was he would be going back for the body asap. So I camped out and waited for him in the GCPD headquarters that night on patrol.”

 

“So that’s where you disappeared off to,” Barbara muttered.

 

“And you didn’t any mention this,” Bruce said.

 

Dick glanced sheepishly at him. “I wanted to see Jason alone first.”

 

Jason hiked a brow at the alpha but said nothing, refusing to buy into the older male’s boyish charm. It was just manipulation, Jason reminded himself. Dick knew how Jason felt about him and he was using it against him now. To soften and guilt him into doing what he wanted. It was just manipulation.

 

“You were camping out with the body,” Dick made a face at Barbara’s phrasing and she corrected herself with a roll of her eyes, “You were there, with the body, at midnight. And you saw someone there taking samples that you thought was Jason but isn’t.”

 

“Yes?”

 

Stephanie made a noise of disbelief. “You were in the _same room_ as whoever it was the stole everything and who’s probably also responsible for everything else. I can’t believe you didn’t tackle the shit out them!”

 

“To be fair, I genuinely thought it was Jason.”

 

“Still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tackle,” Jason said.

 

Dick frowned at him. “I had no plans of arresting you, Jay. I just wanted to see you again.”

 

Damian made a noise of protest at Dick’s admission but Dick ignored him as he held Jason’s eyes. Jason stared back at the alpha, unsure of what to say or do. Manipulation, he repeated to himself. It’s all just lies.

 

Shaking his head, Jason broke the eye contact to turn towards the other side. He eyed Bruce, suddenly very aware of the displeasure he was radiating. Jason decided that he’d rather bite the bullet than to sit around in silence waiting for the billionaire to speak his piece.

 

“What? Not sure what to do with me now that you find out I’m not the killer? Or are you still unconvinced?” He said, tilting his chin defiantly, in a way he knew would aggravate any alpha instinct. Insubordinate omegas were always annoying.

 

“Jason!” Barbara hissed in alarm. Jason shrugged off her warning and kept his eyes on Bruce, cataloguing every tick and twitch. He wasn’t sure how he wanted Bruce to react but he was fairly sure that however the older alpha chose to react would anger him regardless. Yet, he hadn’t been prepared for just now angry he would get.

 

Bruce did not even look at him. Instead of responding, Bruce stood and turned to Barbara. “I wanted all the information you’ve been keeping from us uploaded to the main system by this afternoon.” He said tersely. He then left the dining hall without a backward glance.

 

Jason could almost feel the way his mouth wanted to fall open in shock at Bruce’s blatant disregard for him. He stared furiously after the departed alpha, offended at he was being ignored like he wasn’t even worth the effort to respond to, though Bruce’s order to Barbara made clear his stance of the situation. He didn’t believe Jason’s innocence. Not that Jason expected anything less. Still, the treatment didn’t sting any less, even with such low expectations.

 

Breathing out heavily through his nostrils, Jason pushed his chair back and stood as well. “I’m done here.” He said, trying to swallow back the anger he could feel rising up in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he was more offended by at this point. Dick’s attempts at manipulation or the fact that Bruce hasn’t even _bothered_ to try. Hell, he didn’t even acknowledge him. He balled his hands into fists and bit the inside of his cheeks to stall the stinging in his eyes. Fuck it all, this sucked.

 

When he felt fingers circle around his wrists, he whipped toward Dick in irritation. “What?” He snapped.

 

Dick’s lips were pursed in an unhappy line. He seemed to weigh his next words carefully. “We still need to talk about this whole thing.” He paused and hesitated for a moment, glancing at Jason in a way that told the younger boy he was not going to like what would come out of his predecessor’s mouth. Jason could see the moment Dick decided to say it anyway. “I think you should sit out for tonight’s patrol while we sort things out.”

 

And there it was. The reason behind all that bullshit acting he had been doing thus far, all just to keep Jason from the streets. Go figure.

 

Despite already knowing that it was all just a manipulation tactic, Jason was still unprepared for the magnitude of the surge of hurt and anger that crashed through him. He had to clench hard at the table so that he wouldn’t be digging his claws into the alpha like he wanted to. The guttural growl that slipped past his lips was both feral and enraged. He had to close his eyes to control himself as he gritted out, “Excuse me?”

 

Dick eyed him for a moment, then slowly said, “It’s still too dangerous for you out there. It’s safer for you if you let us handle it. Please, little wing” Dick pleaded softly, “I— we worry about you and—”

 

“And _nothing_. You’ve never cared about that before!” Jason exploded, yanking his hand out of Dick’s grasp and turning to glower at him. Enough, he had _enough_. “You’ve never fucking cared before so don’t try to use that as an excuse now. We both know that’s a fat load of shit.”

 

Dick began protested but Jason cut him off by yanking him up by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare lie to my fucking face Dick Grayson,” He snarled down at him, “You didn’t care and you **don’t** care. I’m not desperate enough for your affection that you can use it against me. So what if I have feelings for you, so what if you fucked me? I don’t need your pity. Don’t think for a second that any of that makes me anything like those dumb whores that like to throw themselves at you. I’m not stupid. And if you think for a second that you can use my feelings against me then you have another thing coming!”

 

Dick stared at him wide-eyed, mouth agape but Jason ignored him. He was on a roll now and he was going to damn well give the alpha a piece of his mind. “You didn’t care when the Joker beat me to hell and you certainly didn’t care when I came crawling back. And please, don’t try to sell me bullshit about how you mourned. If you even gave a rat’s ass about me, you wouldn’t have sent me to Arkham like I was broken goods with a return policy. How dare you think you have a say in what I do and don’t do? How dare you use your _worry_ as a reason to keep me off the streets? How dare you even think you _can_ keep me off the streets? No, Dick. Fuck you. I’m not going to stay in tonight or any night. And if you so much as _try_  to stop me, you’ll have your own safety to worry about.”

 

His breathing came out in short, harsh intervals and his chest heaved with effort. Jason was sure his eyes had taken of a more lupine quality as well. He gave Dick another warning glare before shoving the older man away, leaving Dick to stumble back into his seat as Jason stormed out of the dining hall.

 

The threat of tears was gone but in place of tears, a searing hurt had worked its way into Jason’s chest.

 

*

 

“So… you liking Dick is a thing, huh?”

 

“I have at least a dozen ways to shank you with that ugly ass ornament over there, Blondie. Don’t try me.” Jason said without humour, not looking up from the pillow he had buried his face into.

 

He heard a giggle overhead. “O-kay, it’s definitely a thing.”

 

He growled and lifted his head to glare at his fellow omega. “What do you want?”

 

Stephanie beamed. “I’m glad you asked. Let’s see… I want Tim to stop fawning over Kon and just kiss him already before I do something drastic like smash their faces together, I want my professor to just give me a break because the workload is just too much for this whole vigilante gig, I want Bruce to be nicer to me though that’s kinda more impossible than me single-handedly bringing about world peace so I don’t know about that—”

 

“Stop. Shut up. I’m sorry I asked.” Jason sighed but Stephanie rolled on like he hadn't spoken.

 

“—Oh! And that awesome pair of looking limited-edition Versace boots I saw the other day. Mostly though,” She said, flopping down over him and earning herself a grunt of pain, “I want to know what the hell was that scene this morning.”

 

Jason turned over and glared at her. “It wasn’t anything.”

 

“Nuh uh,” Stephanie wagged her finger just in front of his face, “I have you the entire morning plus lunchtime _and_ snack time to mop and sulk. You owe me a proper explanation. With words.”

 

Jason grumbled, scowling at her still wagging fingers and swatting them away as he smushed his face back into his pillow. “Screw you.” He said though it probably came out garbled.

 

Stephanie patted him lightly on the head. “I love you too. Now, spill.”

 

Heaving a sigh, Jason twisted around to face upwards. This meant that rather than lie across his back, Stephanie was now resting across his stomach. “What’s there to say?”

 

Stephanie hummed, kicking her legs. “That’s true. You pretty much spilt your guts out there, wonder boy. But just to confirm, you like Dick, like, you like, _like_ him, right?”

 

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yes, I like, like him.”

 

Inexplicably, Stephanie grinned at him like a proud parent and Jason’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out why she looked so elated. Though thinking about it, delighting over his tragic and dismal love life sounded very much like something she would do. He told her as much.

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She snickered. “But since you’ve been so honest with me, I shall reward you by telling you all the drama that went down after you left.”

 

“Drama?” Jason echoed with a questioning quirk of his brows.

 

“Yeap,” Stephanie said, popping her ‘p’ cheerfully, “Your speech totally floored everyone, especially the part about your feelings and you guys fucking. You should have _seen_ Damian’s face.” She giggled, “Anyway, after everyone got their wits back, hell pretty much broke loose. Tim and Damian looked like they had no idea what to even do with the information and I’ve never seen Dick look like the way he did in my life. I still have no idea what to call it but he was an odd mixture of devastated, angry and guilty. Either way, when he tried to go after you, Babs, Cass and I managed to cut him off at the stairway. For an intense second there, it honestly seemed like we were going to have a fight on our hands. But then, Alfred saved the day by joining us and blocking his way too.”

 

She gave a shrug. “Dick pretty much knew he lost on that front after that so I guess he redirected his emotions and ended up in the Bat cave where Bruce was. Predictably, there was yelling. A lot of it. At some point, Damian and I joined in. Tim and Barbara hovered around, not really involved, though Barbara occasionally gave some badass and scathing remarks here and there. Cass was honestly just trying to diffuse the situation. I think Alfred gave up because he didn’t even go down to the cave. Long story short, Dick and Bruce and Damian are all not on speaking terms right now while Alfred is ignoring all of us and said he was going to withhold dessert — it’s chocolate pudding, by the way — until we got our collective shit together and worked things out. He didn’t say that of course but I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant. Oh, and apparently, Cass was right. There was some huge misunderstanding going on.”

 

It took Jason a moment to register everything she said, but once it all sank it, he frowned. “What misunderstanding?”

 

“Somewhere in the yelling match, it was revealed that when Bruce said ‘danger’ he meant that you were _in_ danger. Not that you were dangerous.”

 

Jason stared at her in disbelief. “Multiple people confirmed that he declared that I was the danger. You can’t honestly be telling me that everyone misheard him.”

 

“Actually, all he did was mutter ‘danger’ while we were discussing your reappearance before he went all Dark Knight on us and fluttered off into the Gotham night. There wasn't really much for us to go on so we just assumed.”

 

 _What_. Was all Jason’s mind could muster.

 

“What.” He voiced out, stunned.

 

“Yeap,” Stephanie confirmed.

 

Jason stared down at his hands, his mind reeling with this new piece of information. He wasn’t sure he believed it. It sounded too good to be true. It sounded almost like Bruce _cared_.

 

Jason shook his head. “No, no. I don’t— that’s not— it sounds like— it sounds like he cares?” He said, bewildered.

 

Stephanie patted him on the stomach sympathetically. “You should probably talk to him.”

 

Jason stared at her wide-eyed and confused and she simply hummed in response. “Also, you should talk to Dick too. You don’t see it but the poor guy’s pretty wrecked over you— don’t look at me like that, it’s true,” Stephanie huffed at the expression on utter disbelief on Jason’s face. “He doesn’t know how to show it but he’s really trying. In fact, it’s a bit pathetic how hard he’s trying. I can’t speak for the days leading up to you being brought here since I honestly wasn’t paying that much attention to what Dick gets up to in his free time before then. But since you’ve been here, he’s done nothing but try to find things that would please you. The pantry is stocked full of that gross fig jam you like and the fridge as more cartons of your favourite juices than the whole family can drink. He’s even showering more often like he’s scared you’d think he smells.” She snickered. Jason couldn’t react, he didn’t know how.

 

At his stiff silence, Stephanie sighed, “What I’m trying to say is, he does care about you. He wasn’t faking or acting or whatever you thought he was doing when he suggested you stay in for the night. He was just honestly, and maybe overly, concerned about you.”

 

Jason remained silent and looked away from Stephanie, unwilling to meet her eyes and see the honesty there as he swallowed the lump that had worked its way up his throat. He wasn’t he could speak even if he wanted to. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he needed to.

 

They laid in silence for a long, long while, Jason considering her words while Stephanie kept him company through it. An hour in, Barbara came to join them. She seemed to know what had been discussed or she was at least perceptive enough to know that _something_ had been discussed because she simply rested a hand on his shin.

 

When the sun began setting, Stephanie gently patted his stomach again and said softly. “They care for you. Both of them. They just really, _really_ suck a showing it. If emotional constipation was an Olympic sport, they would destroy everyone else and dominate the gold medals.” She joked.

 

Jason cracked a small smile at that. “Good thing it’s not an Olympic category then. The world wouldn’t be able to handle it if it became a competitive sport.”

 

“Hell no.” Stephanie agreed with a laughed as she sprung back onto her feet. She moved behind Barbara’s wheelchair and walked them both to the door. Before the door closed, Stephanie called over her shoulder, “I’m not saying do it now but talk to them at some point, okay?” before the door clicked shut.

 

Alone again, in the now dark room. Jason closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale.

 

*

 

Jason was headed somewhere. He didn’t know where and with who but he was moving in a group. With every step, his sense of unease increased. He looked around at the faceless figures he moved with. No one else seemed bothered. They continued walking forward, following behind the figure Jason knew was the dealer. Jason hesitated, his instincts going slightly wild with the sense of foreboding but Caleb kept walking, arm still around his shoulders, pulling him forward. Reluctantly, Jason followed.

 

As they made their way towards the entrance, Jason noticed that there was fresh soil piled along the path leading towards the entrance, covering the grass that had once been there. There was a heavy scent of metal present in the soil and smoke particles in the air, making his nose wrinkle. The general area was dimly lit and it did nothing to settle him.

 

When they reached the heavy wood door of the shop (and what shop was it again? Jason couldn't be sure), Jason could smell gunpowder, a lot of it, and he was instantly on high alert. The smell intensified, along with the metallic smell that had already been in the air, when the dealer opened the door to beckoned them through.

 

Nothing in Jason wanted to enter but it was too late. He’d much rather be facing whatever was inside then to turn his back to run; better to dodge the bullets when they no doubt begin raining.

 

Abruptly the scene changed and Jason was suddenly already _inside_ , looking at a lady. He couldn’t for the life of him recall who she was or why it was important by it was.

 

He was distracted from this thoughts when the faceless figure of who Jason had identified as ‘the dealer’ had begun speaking to the lady.

 

“Boss, I brought ‘em like ya asked.”

 

The lady did not react at first, aged fingers still moving lazily to light the cigar, then Jason realised with some degree of horror that she _did_ react, he just didn’t see it. In the next moment, the dealer’s shoulders slumped and he slowly fell forward. On impact, the blood that had pooled splattered outwards like some sick water show and the blade embedded in the dealer’s face protruded from the other side of his skull, no doubt pushed through when he fell on the hilt.

 

Jason’s vision tunnelled out, darkening at the edges as blood rushed to his ears and drained from his face. He just stared dumbly at the corpse (corpses? Why did he feel like there was more than one even though he couldn’t see the other one now?) in front of him, unsure if he wanted to throw up or run. Both, he decided, he wanted to do both, though he could not bring himself to actually _move_. He was only semi-aware of the choked off sound Caleb was making beside.

 

Was blood supposed to run so quickly? Wasn’t it more viscous than that? A flurry of thoughts ran through Jason’s head and he comprehended and caught none of it, eyes still trained on the draining body at his feet.

 

Slowly, Jason dragged his eyes from the floor and turned back towards the old lady, heart thundering. He bit back a scream his heart dropping down to his feet when he realised that the lady was looking straight at him.

 

*

 

Jason woke up with a scream lodged in his throat. 

 

* * *

 

Stephanie glanced around the table, feeling a foreboding sense of deja vu as she did so. With the information she had revealed just hours prior, she'd be lucky if this pre-patrol briefing doesn't wound up a complete shitshow.

 

“Jason’s not coming.” She said in an attempt to break the silence. Somehow, she was always the one that had to do it.

 

She saw Dick wince, a flash of guilt flickered across his features. She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s not because you told him to, Dick.”

 

Dick grimaced. “I know.”

 

“Uh huh,” She eyed him dubiously.

 

“Are we going to have a briefing or are we just going to all stand here?” Tim asked with an exasperated sigh in his tone.  

 

“Tim’s right, we should start.” Barbara said, “I’ve uploaded everything I have unto the main system. You guys can go through that in your own time. Now, let’s pick up where we left off this morning. Steph, you said you can identify the compounds found in the drinks we had tested?”

 

“I can. You guys were pretty much on the right track. The three compounds are the three drug trinities that Carolyn girl mentioned; Red Cornelia, Green Dutch and Blue Envy. They cause loss of inhibitions, heightened senses and dulled senses, respectively.”

 

“What about the memory loss Dick experienced?” Tim asked.

 

“Overdose,” Stephanie said simply and said nothing more in spite of the raised eyebrows her casual answer received.

 

“That doesn’t help us identify the compound found in Steed’s body,” Barbara said.

 

“That, I don’t know.” Stephanie admitted, “Maybe it’s something her body naturally metabolises?”

 

Barbara hummed, eyes contemplative. “Maybe. I’ll do a blood analysis. I’m going to need all for your blood samples for reference and comparison. How do you guys feel about that?”

 

There were grunts of agreement around the table.

 

“Okay, good. I’ll ask Jason for his later. The rest of you, put your samples in by tonight.”

 

“What about this other omega that’s also missing. Viktor? What are we going to do about that? So far, he seems like the closest to Steed since he’s a possible homicide.” Tim observed from the newly uploaded reports he had pulled up on his tablet.

 

“Jason couldn’t find any sign of him in any water source. It’s a dead end so far but in terms of personal life, we have to most information on him since Jason could just ask Carolyn.” Barbara said.

 

“To be clear, this is the same Carolyn we ran into at Octagon,” Dick said.

 

“It is.” Stephanie confirmed, frowning, “If that doesn’t scream suspicious, I don’t know what does. I’ve been trying to dig stuff up on her. So far, what I have confirmed is that she’s a pretty well-known omega prostitute. A partial shrew shifter. She’s supposedly friends with Viktor and she was the one that reported him missing to Jason. That’s all I have for now. I can’t ask Jason because he gets _very_ defensive. I’m pretty much on my own so this might take time.” She paused, letting the information sink in before she continued, “There’s something else I found. Not sure if it’s a fluke, but I found out that all of the omegas both missing and dead, use the same type of suppressants — DN-45.”

 

“Of course,” Tim rolled his eyes with a groan, “Of course it would be the one suppressant we literally know nothing about. You have to be kidding me. We haven’t hit this many walls in a case since… ever actually.” He finished, astonished at his own revelation.

 

“Either the perpetrator is really lucky,” Dick trailed off with a grimace.

 

“Or their really damn good and this is something big.” Tim completed grimly. “Steph, what do you have on the suppressants?”

 

“Very little.” She sighed, "Not enough to get us anywhere."

 

The sound of a cleared throat somewhere behind them made her turn in surprise. Stephanie beamed when she saw Jason trek down the stairs towards them.

  
"Not really," Jason said to her as he descended.

 

“What do you mean?” Barbara asked when Jason joined them at the table, taking a spot between her and Stephanie.

 

“I use those.” Jason replied.

 

“They’re illegal,” Tim said bluntly.

 

Jason shrugged. “They're effective.” He fired back.

 

“You didn’t use to use them." Tim said, unwilling to relent. Stephanie saw when Jason's brow twitched a single time, betraying his irritation. "Did Talia get you on them?”

 

“No, Replacement, she didn’t.” Jason exhaled through his nose, aggravated, “I didn’t start using them until something like a year ago.”

 

Stephanie watched in amusement as something funny happen to Dick’s face. “Wait, did you start after we—" At Jason's withering look, he choked back whatever he wanted to say much to Stephanie's dismay. She  _so_ wanted to know, preferably in great detail. After struggling for a moment, Dick settled for, "after _that_?”

 

Jason glared, tilting his chin defiantly. “So?”

 

Dick spluttered incoherently for a moment. He then opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but Jason levelled him another warning look and Dick snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, averting his eyes to the table.

 

Satisfied, Jason turned his attention back to the rest of the table. “I have it now. If it’ll help with the investigation, I don’t mind handing some over.”

 

Damian squinted at him, words laced with suspicion when he said, “Why are you suddenly so forthcoming with your knowledge when you went to such lengths to conceal it before?”

 

 

Stephanie watched as an odd expression briefly crossed Jason’s face for a brief moment before it disappeared, replaced with a scoff. “I slept on it and woke up with the decision to share. I want this case to end and there’s no way in hell any of you can stop my involvement.” He threw the last bit like a challenge. Surprisingly, no one took him up on it. No even Bruce. 

 

Stephanie watched Jason for a moment. She had thought he looked a little pale under the white lights of the cave but a subtle twitch of his head told her that he didn’t want to talk about it. She decided to question him about it later. For now, “What do you know about the dealers? Is there a way to track them down?”

 

Jason hesitated. “I know my dealer. I can ask her.” He offered slowly.

 

Barbara narrowed her eyes at him. “You came back to Gotham for those suppressants, didn’t you? So the dealer would be that alpha you were with before you came to see me that day.”

 

Babs probably meant it as an off-hand guess but Stephanie almost laughed out loud when she saw Dick twitch at the mention of an alpha he didn't know meeting with Jason. With how quickly he snapped his head towards Jason, she was surprised he didn’t get whiplash. Jason didn't notice. 

 

Jason shrugged, which was pretty much a confirmation. “I’ll ask her about the dealers.” He repeated evasively. Dick narrowed his eyes and looked like he was about to question him when Stephanie, deciding that she would spare him the embarrassment and her ears the pain of listening to them argue, said loudly, “If you can, try to find all of their dealers. We might have something to go on from there.” Almost like he knew what she was doing, Dick shot her a glare as he closed his mouth with a disgruntled click. Stephanie smirked. 

 

Jason nodded. “And I have to find more information about Steed and Well too, right?”

 

“If you can,” Tim affirmed. He turned to the rest of the table, “Ideally, we’ll work in pairs so that we can watch each other’s backs.”

 

Dick opened his mouth, no doubt to offer himself as Jason’s partner but before he could get a word in and to the prediction of _no one_ , Cass raised her hand. “Me?” She looked at Jason hopefully. Jason looked surprised but didn't reject her.

 

"Sure," He agreed easily, sounding like he didn't care either way.  Stephanie almost felt bad for Dick, the way his face seemed to fall flat in disappointment.

 

Cass nodded, satisfied. Stephanie noticed the way Cass’ eyes flickered towards Bruce for a moment. She blinked in sudden understanding of what had motivated Cass to volunteer herself as Jason’s partner for this case. Stephanie smiled inwardly. 

 

Tim continued the discussion. “Barbara you’ll need to scan the second note. Since the first one was taken, this is the only copy we have left. You’ll need to scan it and cross-reference the handwriting in both as well as gather any detail possible about it. You’ll also need to work on identifying the compounds in the victim by comparing it with our blood and as an extra precaution, we’ll get a drug analysis on DN-45 as well. Remember we all have to give our blood sample by tonight. Jason, you too if you’re okay with it.” He paused to receive Jason’s nod. “Babs, are you sure your system can handle that many scans at once?”

 

Barbara gave him a look over the rim of her glasses that said exactly what she thought of that question. “I’ll make it happen.”

 

“We should probably decipher the note or something because I don’t know about you but it sounds pretty ominous to me. ‘Rubies shattered everywhere’? That’s blood, isn’t it? Even an idiot would know.” Jason said.  

 

“It’s creepy for sure. The whole wolf hunting the _red_ riding _hood_ , fairytale theme it has going on sounds too much like you can be both the hunted and the hunter, which is confusing.” Stephanie grumbled.

 

“When did we have a consensus that Todd is innocent?” Damian folded his arms.

 

“Since this morning. Catch up kid.” Jason rolled his eyes.

 

Damian remained petulant. “Father remains unconvinced.”

 

“Yeah well, he can—”

 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Tim interrupted loudly, “The note we’ll leave to Babs. As for Jason’s innocence, everything points to it for now with the exception of the notes and they’re pretty cryptic to begin with so we’ll take it that he’s blame-free. Anyone with issues, take it up with him later but for god’s sake Damian, read the reports first _before_ you try to start fights.”

 

Tim sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose with the air of jaded old man. “That leaves Alexander Moller, Viktor Korkunov and Jackson Vernon for the rest of us to deal with. Moller’s been missing for 3 weeks, Korkunov two weeks and Vernon has only just gone missing. There’s something like a trend here that I feel like we should look into. We’ll also need to do digs on their persons in general. I guess the five of us will work on them. Who wants who?”

 

“Grayson and I will take the robin.”

 

Tim rolled his eyes. “Of course you would. Then I guess Steph and I will take Korkunov. Bruce—”

 

“Moller.” The gravelling voice of Batman acknowledged.

 

“Okay, everyone has their assignments so, meeting adjourned,” Tim said with a tinge of relief in his voice. Everyone began scattering to start of their patrol routes but stopped when Jason declared, “I’m not going on patrol tonight.”

 

Everyone looked at him in surprise. "Why?” Stephanie asked the question everyone was wondering.

 

Jason shifted uncomfortably, eyes skittering away. “I’m just not. And neither is Dickiebird.”

 

Stephanie felt her mouth fall open in an 'o' while Damian scowled.

 

Barbara snorted. “About time.” She muttered, already wheeling towards the Batmobile for a ride back to the Clocktower. Bruce gave them a conflicted look before turning to follow her, his lips set in a frown. Tim simply sighed.

 

Dick, to his credit, only blinked once before he began stowing away his gear. His hands were steady but the red tip of his ears gave him away. Stephanie smirked at the flustered alpha when she walked by making the redness spread down his neck. She gave him an obnoxious thumbs up before turning to follow Tim so they would discuss their part of the case. 

 

* * *

 

Dick rubbed the back of his neck as he shuffled behind Jason. He was unsurprised to find that the omega had made his way to the kitchen and was now badgering Alfred into giving him some of the chocolate pudding. Everyone had been sad over missing dessert but no one had the guts to actually wheedle Alfred for it because they all knew that appearances aside, Alfie was the true martial arts master in the house and he was not opposed to using his skills on them when they were being impertinent. Trying to acquire dessert that had been declared withheld was definitely impertinent, not that it stopped Jason my-middle-name-is-trouble Todd.

 

It seemed to Dick like he had been brought along just so Jason could make a case to the butler that he was trying to work things out. It was such an endearingly Jason thing to do that Dick didn’t mind. It was hilarious to hear Jason grouse at the elderly man with stupid excuses like “but Alfie, we can’t work things out without some sugary motivation, that’s just inhumane!” and “world peace, Alfie. That’s what we can achieve if you’d just share some pudding with us.”

 

Still, the comedic scene aside, Dick dreaded the conversation they were about to have.

 

Fifteen minutes and some second later, Dick was once again shuffling behind Jason, this time carrying to cups of chocolate pudding while Jason led them to the living room, a jar of fig jam, two spoons and another cup of chocolate pudding in his own hand. Alfred had always had a soft spot for Jason, particularly when he was causing trouble so really, it was not particularly shocking that Jason’s trip to the kitchen actually got them the bounty they wanted.

 

“Blondie’s told me some interesting things.” Jason started casually, attention mostly on his struggle to fit the large scope of fig jam through the rim of the jar.

 

Dick gave a nervous cough as he pushed the second pudding cup he had been holding towards Jason. “What kind of interesting things exactly?”

 

“Oh you know, something about you being, what was the word she used — 'wrecked?' — over me. Thanks for the fig jam and the juice, the cranberry one was good. Also, you don’t smell bad. In fact…” Jason paused and his eyes flickered to Dick with an odd expression on his face. Dick would almost call it embarrassed. Jason cleared his throat and turned back to the jam jar he was tussling with. “Since we’re on going to be honest with each other from here on out, I just wanted to let you know that the excessive bathing is unnecessary. I like the way you naturally smell.”

 

Dick blinked. “I thought you hated the alpha musk?” He blurted. The omega glared at him.

 

“I do. I just—” He cut himself off with a frustrated growl. He struggled incoherently for a moment before snapping out, “Why do you have to make me say it? Ugh, I hate alpha musk, it stinks but I… don’t mind yours.” He finished reluctantly.

 

“Oh,” Dick took sharp inhale through his nostrils and swallowed, reminding himself that gathering the sullen omega up in his arms and squeezing the life of out him was _not_ something he can do, yet. Still, the warmth that had burst through his chest at the omega’s words lingered.

 

Jason, finally winning against the jar, triumphantly held out his spoonful of fig jam and promptly dumped the entire thing onto his first cup of chocolate pudding. Dick made a face at him. “It’s good.” The younger boy defended. Dick wisely chose not to give a response and voice just how gross he found it.

 

“So, are we going to talk about this or we here to just eat pudding together?” Jason asked, leaning back in the armchair he had claimed upon entering the living room. Dick sat adjacent to his omega, choosing to take the couch so that he could be as close to Jason as possible. Dick didn’t think it was an accident that Jason had picked the one chair that would prevent Dick from sitting beside him and getting too close and he respected that and tried to be too disappointed by it.

 

“Yeah, let’s talk.”

 

“To begin with, what is this _thing_ we have going on,” Jason gestured to the space between them.”You know I like you, I know you like me. Are we going to pursue this?”

 

“Hopefully. If you want.”

 

Jason pursed his lips in consideration. “I think it was a mistake to start there. I like you, you like me, let’s fornicate. That’s too simple. We have a lot more baggage than that.”

 

Dick reluctantly agreed, knowing that the painful part of the discussion was coming and couldn’t be avoided. If they wanted to work out, they had to be candid with their feelings and intentions. Neither of them were good at it but they had to try.

 

Taking a deep breath, Dick spoke. “I’ll start. What you said about the Joker, we did mourn you. We did. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you beforehand but I definitely missed you once you were gone. I guess the saying ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone’ its true.” Dick couldn’t help the bitterly smile that quirked his lips, “When you came back, I— we didn’t know how to deal with it. I won’t speak for Bruce, you’ll need to talk to him yourself, good luck with that, but I speak for myself when I say I fucked up. I didn’t know how to handle the fact that you were even _back_. There were so many questions. How? Who did it? Why now? You have to understand, it took me a while to even believe that you were even back. And once that sunk in, it was another matter to convince myself that it was _you_ and not some lookalike imposter. The craziness of situation and you trying to kill pretty much everyone made it hard for me to accept that _was_ you. And I think when I sent you into Arkham, I’m not making excuses but part of me genuinely didn’t believe it was you. Maybe it was denial or maybe it—” Dick stopped and shook his head to stop himself from excusing his action.

 

He glanced at Jason to see him sitting stiffly, eyes trained on the pudding he had stopped eating. He looked pale, whether it was disgust at Dick’s admittance or memories of his time at Arkham, Dick was not sure but he felt guilty all the same.

 

Taking a shaky breath, Dick pushed on. “I’m sorry, for allowing you to be sent to Arkham, for how I treated you and for not seeing that you actually wanted. I wasn’t thinking and guess, when I felt out of my depth, I fell into old patterns and just went along with what Batman said. I’m not saying it was Bruce’s fault. I don’t think he knew what he was doing either. None of us did. Honestly, you hit us so fast and so hard, _no one_ really had their bearings. I’m not saying that excuses our actions but I just thought you should know that there wasn’t any malicious intent. We just didn’t know _what_ to do.” Dick looked down at his hands, “I realised what you really came back for when— you know, that night. when I found you.”

 

Jason scowled. “I didn’t come back for _you_.” He snapped.

 

“I know. That’s not what I meant. You— I’m not going to list out what you came back for. You know that better than anyone else, there’s no reason for me to say it. Just know that, _trust_ that, I know. I saw and I know now the mistakes I made. It won’t happen again. I won’t write you off, I won’t turn you away and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t get sent _anywhere_ you don’t want to be.” He shot Jason a pleading look, willing the younger man to believe his sincerity.

 

Jason remained in pensive silence for a while, absently dig around his pudding cup. When he did look at Dick, there was something indecipherable in his eyes. “You say that, but I’m still a killer. I’m not going to stop putting bullets into criminals I deem irredeemable just because you want me to.”

 

Dick felt his eyes soften. He didn’t mention the fact that Jason’s kill count had already been on a steady downward track. Barbara had managed to dig out Jason’s activity in the year he spent wondering — no doubt done with the information Jason himself had provided when the two had caught up at some point — and she had compiled all the dealings and criminals Jason and gunned down and let go since. It showed a steadily decreasing kill count. Dick still didn’t approve of Jason’s methods but he could work with improvement.

 

He didn’t mention any of that to Jason. Instead, he said. “Did you know, that I almost killed Joker after I found out what he did to you.”

 

Jason gaped at him. “What?”

 

“Joker," Dick said slowly, "I almost killed him.”

 

Jason stared. “What made you stop?”

 

“Batman.”

 

Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes and taking a bit of pudding and fig jam. “Of course.”

 

“The point is, I don’t approve of your methods but I can understand it to a certain degree. I won’t tell you to stop. The same way you're not trying convince me to adopt your method, I won’t make you adopt mine. It’s only fair.”

 

“Batman might disagree.”

 

Dick shrugged. “Blüdhaven isn’t his turf, is it? And the normal criminals there are much worse. We don’t have a Joker but we have others. Ones that you have a track record of un-aliving.”

 

Jason cocked his head. “Did you just offer to let me operate in your city and kill there?”

 

“No, but I’m saying if things don’t work out between you and Bruce, you still have me.” Dick said, maintaining steady eye-contact with Jason.

 

Jason stared at him as an unintelligible sound at the back of his throat. His expression was torn and — if Dick was reading him right, — confused; vulnerable.

 

“Thanks.” Jason eventually said quietly.

 

Dick decided to remain silent as Jason fiddled absently with his pudding cup, eyes both haunted and hopeful as he contemplated Dick's words. He took the opportunity to stare at Jason like he had wanted to. Jason's soft waves were shorter than the last time he had seen them, less wild. The distinct white tuff of hair fell over the younger boy's forehead in a gentle curl that made the omega incredibly cute in Dick's opinion. The light coloured hair wasn't even really white. Now that he was taking a closer, it was clear that what he had thought was white hair was actually a shock of silvery hair, hair that reminded him distinctly of Jason's lycan form. The shade of silver complimented Jason's expressive teal coloured orbs well. Fitting, since the silver trialled down, leading any observing eye to Jason's own eyes — ones that Dick was staring into in fact.

 

Dick blinked and Jason blinked back. 

 

"Like what you see, Dickiebird?" Jason smirked, tone teasing as his eyes crinkled in amusement. 

 

Dick felt warmth instantly flood into his face.

 

"Uh—" He stuttered.

 

Jason laughed softly before sighing, sobering abruptly from his amusement. “It’s my turn I guess." He murmured staring down at his pudding, "there’s nothing much to say about my death so I guess I’ll start with the resurrection. I’m just going to say, the Lazarus pit fucked me up, no question there, but I think the scariest part is, I’m not sure how much of it was the pit and how much of it was me. I still don’t know. That entire ordeal was a blur but I remembered why I wanted to do the things I did. I remember the urge and I _get_ it.” He took a deep inhale and another bite of pudding. Dick was willing to bet Jason had never said any of that out loud before. It was visibly hard for the lupine omega to speak about but the pudding seemed to actually have a calming effect on him.

 

“Anyway, I’m not going to bore you details of the shitshow that was in my head.” Jason said hastily, “I can’t change what I did but I can do better now. I’m trying to. So yeah, I have no standing urge to kill any of you. A year away did wonders for my head. I’m still pissed at Bruce, maybe a bit at you but it’s not homicidal. I should probably apologise to the replacement.” Jason added the last bit like an afterthought.

 

“You could start by not calling him replacement anymore. He has a name you know.” Dick said wryly.

 

Jason waved it off. “He doesn’t mind.”

 

“Have you asked him if he minds?” Dick raised his brow.

 

Jason shifted slightly and took another bite of pudding, scrapping the last of it into his mouth. “Not really.”

 

“Meaning not at all.”

 

“Yeah, I haven’t,” Jason conceded, “I can only manage one heart to heart conversation a day. This is my daily quota.”

 

“So what are we going to do about us?”

 

Jason paused in his reach for the second pudding cup. He glanced up at Dick and back down at the pudding. His eyes flickered shyly to the fig jam Dick had gotten for him and he visibly flush. “We can, um, give it a try I guess.”

 

Dick grinned. “Give _it_ a try?” He echoed, delighted.

 

Jason’s flush got darker. The omega swiped the pudding cup and took a big mouthful, unwilling to look at Dick as he said, “A relationship.”

 

Dick’s grin widened. “What relationship?” He asked innocently.

 

“A relationship between us, you dipshit,” Jason scowled darkly at him, “Keep it up and it’ll be a relationship between you and your right hand.”

 

Dick laughed and reached out to grab Jason to him. Jason yelped, hands scrambling to grip his pudding properly as he was bodily yanked towards the alpha. Dick was not above taking advantage of this new relationship instantly. He tucked the struggling man under his chin and all but _cuddled_ Jason into submission.

 

“Watch it,” Jason complained, “Alfie will _never_ forgive me if I spill his pudding. If that happens, he won’t give me special treatment anymore.”

 

Dick hummed in the way that made it clear he wasn’t really listening, too content to have his omega within reach, tucked in his arms. He gave his share of the pudding to appease Jason.

 

He smirked when he heard Jason mutter lowly, “See if I get a portion of pudding for you next time.”

 

Despite his bitching, Jason didn’t try to break out of Dick’s hold. They ended up watching reruns of RuPaul’s Drag Race while Jason ate his third portion of pudding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason's talk with Bruce will come next chapter. The chapter was long and happening enough as it is so I decided to split the family drama up.


End file.
